


Will You Paint Me?

by ThisIsArt (ToHoldForever)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akira is tyrannical prob, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Dorks in Love, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kingdoms and stuff, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Rating May Change, Relationship(s), Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Yusuke is an artist, akechi the prince you saw it coming, but not really, im bad at tagging, of another place dw, seriously, theres a tag for akechi's mom holy shi, this is art
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-11-18 15:31:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11293542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToHoldForever/pseuds/ThisIsArt
Summary: Yusuke Kitagawa has a famous reputation for being an artist -- except he's broke. He never intended to become popular. Refusing to sell his art pieces, he suffers from a very common thing: a lack of pocket change. When a request for him to become the royal court painter with a huge sack of money comes, he has no choice but to accept.There is only one living person in the royal blood after the previous King and Queen are assassinated -- the King himself, Akira Kurusu. Young, he is often underestimated. However, he grows in popularity as word of his leadership becomes infectious, spreading to foreign lands. Rumor has it his parents had prepared him painstakingly for this day, and has shaped him into a remarkable heir-turned-king.The only thing is, Akira is often riddled with work and stress, not to mention aggressive neighboring kingdoms who, inevitably, want to take his kingdom for themselves. As fate would have it, though, he's grown an interest to the eccentric artist.EDIT: Short hiatus... I'm alive...!!





	1. Hello, I'm the court painter

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first fanfic here in AO3. I've always enjoyed reading all the fanfics here, yet enjoyed writing. So I really hope you like this! It's slow for now, so take it easy. Perhaps the plot will pick up soon anyway, who knows...

Yusuke isn't used to luxuries.

While Yusuke certainly has a reputation being one of the best painters in the land, his refusal to sell any of his works (due to his sentimentality) has left him broke -- or at least, not very well off. He looks around, in amazement, the grand halls of Yogen's castle; banners hang along the walls, proudly showing off its pride off their kingdom; pristine statues impose upon its visitors; arched hallways which are lit in a way to create a mystical atmosphere. As an enthusiast for beautiful things, Yusuke can safely say this is one of the most breathtaking sights he has ever seen, and swore to himself to not take such a building for granted.

It's almost unbelievable this is Yusuke's new place of residence; sure, he would spend most of the time in the atelier, drawing and painting along with the other artists, but Yusuke is different from the others. He is the king's personal painter -- the others would be sculpting sculptures for decoration, painting new ones to hang upon the grounds, so the paintings aren't there forever (old ones will sell for a price, and the payment forwards to the painter himself). Yusuke's aim is to only paint portraits of the King, and nothing else.

Yusuke almost forgot he wasn't alone. The person who was in charge of showing him around is Ann Takamaki; she dresses in eccentric clothes, but beautiful ones at that, which complimented her ashy blonde hair and bright blue eyes -- Yusuke would love to paint her, but again. Painter for the King. Got it. With this, Yusuke decides, perhaps, she is a high-positioned official, and doesn't go against her instructions.

Yusuke is unsure why his position as the exclusive painter for the King grants him a better status than the rest of the servants, even earning himself a tour for him, and him only, like a noble; other than his reputation, he's merely another person in the kingdom.

She's currently showing him the baths of the kingdom, which he's interested in but not completely absorbed.

"If you want hot water," Ann goes on to explain, picking up a water bucket, "just set aside a water bucket and then clean yourself with it. Though there is always the cold water."

"I'll keep that in mind," Yusuke replies, yet his eyes aren't on Ann; he looks around to take in the sight. Even the baths are pristine and clean -- to be expected of the Yongen kingdom. Ann notices this, and smiles, pleased.

"Breathtaking, am I right?" she says, and Yusuke is brought back to reality with a blink. She laughs, and Yusuke only tilts his head to the side.

"Oh, well, yes," he answers, nodding and looking around again. "This is truly the kingdom of Yongen."

Ann joins him in his sightseeing, and putting her hands on her hips, she heaves a breath. "You're right!" she exclaims, and then she looks back at Yusuke. "And welcome to Yongen, painter!"

 

 

Next, they go up and down the towers, greeting the soldiers and surveying places of interest; this also included the throne room.

Yusuke looks upon the area; there is only one seat, composed of gold and red cushions, prominent as a red carpet leading up to it. Curtains of the same palette circle about the royal chair at the end of the room. The chandelier dimly lights the room, creating an atmosphere.

The room in itself is airy, with large windows on the sides, partially covered with curtains, allowing natural light to seep in. Columns line on the both sides of the carpet.

The seat is empty at this time.

"This, as you may have guessed, is the throne room!" Ann says, outstretching her hands. "Isn't it magnificent? Grand is an understatement!"

Yusuke nods, enthusiastic. He starts thinking about painting the throne room with the King sitting on the fancy seat, idle. It'll indeed make a beautiful painting.

"Quite. It'll be a beautiful scenery to paint," Yusuke responds, a gleam in his eye visible for a fleeting moment. "I am most excited to begin work on a project that will feature such a grand view." He starts surveying the room more carefully: the pattern of the fabric of the carpet, the design of the throne, the lighting. Everything is nearly perfect, much to his joy.

Before he can take in the area entirely, there is a masculine call from behind. "Ann!"

Yusuke and Ann spin around to find a male clad in iron armor, with only his head visible from the equipment. He holds the helmet by his side, therefore revealing a spiked blonde hair, brown eyes, and a grin which Yusuke doesn't know how to feel about.

"Ryuji? What is it?" Ann replies, evidently familiar with the male called Ryuji.

The knight points towards the door. "The King needs your help again -- something about picking out the right clothes." He shrugs, the armor groaning. "I mean, you know he looks good in anything, but you know."

"Right, right," Ann answers with a chuckle. "Oh, before that, Ryuji, meet Yusuke Kitagawa, the court painter exclusive to his Majesty." She turns to Yusuke, nearly left out of the conversation. "Yusuke, this is Ryuji Sakamoto, the King's personal knight."

Yusuke bows lowly to the knight, who awkwardly attempts to replicate. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, uh, yeah, you too," Ryuji says with a nod, taken aback by his politeness. "Are you always like this?"

Yusuke's mind draws a blank. "What?"

Ryuji shakes his head. "Nothing, it's nothing. Anyway, Ann?"

"Right," Ann says. "I'll catch up with you Yusuke! Hey Ryuji, if you have time, mind showing Yusuke around?"

Ryuji scratches his head. "Oh, well, I suppose."

Yusuke doesn't know how to feel about Ryuji; he seems like a simpleton, but he does have a respectable position. He's quite friendly as well, so maybe they'll get along just fine.

Since Ryuji doesn't know which parts to show Yusuke, he asks, "Oh, well, where haven't you looked yet?"

Before he could speak, his stomach does so first.

"..."

"..."

"... So, where is the kitchen?"

 

 

 

"The food here is the best! Chief really knows how to cook a meal," Ryuji exclaims, pushing the door open to the kitchen.

Yusuke is immediately overwhelmed by all the things in the kitchen, which awakens his senses; the delicious aroma in the air that wafted right where he stands, the heavy footsteps, utensils and metal clinking together, and seeing all the staff working in a rhythmic harmony he hasn't seen before. It's memorizing to watch the way they can easily maneuver through without bumping into each other and the timeliness of the cooks, as if the same beat is coursing through them, making some sort of musical.

Yusuke decides: the castle is as wondrous as it gets.

"Don't you mean, 'chef'? Or are you referring to your boss cooking here himself?" Yusuke asks, and Ryuji shakes his head.

"Nah, I don't mean that. I'll show you!" Ryuji says, and then navigating through the busy kitchen. "Boss!"

Yusuke attempts to catch up to him from behind, which is barely, but Ryuji finally halts to a middle-aged man. He has slicked-back hair (and a receding hairline, but we don't talk about that), a chinstrap beard, and a conspicuous goatee. He also wears glasses.

Ryuji seems to look at him, so Yusuke takes it that is who he meant, believing it the opportunity to introduce himself. "My name is Yusuke Kitagawa--" -- he takes a bow -- "the new court painter. And you are?"

Just like Ryuji's initial reaction, he also seems surprised by his over politeness. "Sojiro Sakura," he says -- two words and only that.

"Ann told me I should help him look around the castle," Ryuji explains to the man, and he nods.

"All right, but make sure you don't do anything funny, okay?" Sojiro asks, lifting a skeptical eyebrow to both Yusuke and Ryuji.

"Aww, come on, we won't -- or don't -- -always- do something stupid," Ryuji protests.

"Right, right. Now get moving."

As they walk up and down the kitchen, doing their best to be courteous to the staff, Ryuji finally leads him to the dining area; tables are put together to form one long line of tables, covered in dressing.

The room itself has a few windows and no other furniture other than a couple of paintings, chairs, and surfaces.

"This is where the ari... aris... okay, shit, this is where the important people eat at," Ryuji attempts to explain, scratching his head. "We don't eat here; we just eat them wherever we sleep at, obviously. So I guess this isn't important." He turns around. "Oh, we have the barracks, along with the training grounds. Do you want to look at that?"

Yusuke ponders on this. "Well, I have time today, so I don't see why not."

 

 

They exit the castle interiors, and past the gardens which Yusuke will vow to look at after; they then enter a fortress-like building, in which upon entry, are greeted with an arrow whizzing past their ears.

"Sorry!" A man says, inhaling air through his teeth.

Ryuji decides to keep Yusuke behind him.

Men practice swordfights, others try the shooting range. Yusuke is fascinated by all the hardworking people, the way their sweat gleams in the sunlight, the fierce look in their eyes.

"It's admirable for them to protect their country," Yusuke muses, busy watching them train.

"Yeah," Ryuji says. "The others who aren't training are usually mercenaries."

Before they can take another step, someone calls for both of them. "You two! Come over here!"

Ryuji seems to jump at that, and Yusuke is unsure if he did so as well, and obeying the feminine voice, they do.

In front of them is a girl who has brown hair in a bob cut with blunt bangs, and a french-braid style headband that matches her hair. She also has this abnormal red-brown eyes. She's clad in metal armor, like Ryuji, but it seems more polished and refined.

"S-Sorry captain!" Ryuji stammers, scratching his head. "I-I was just showing the new guy around."

The captain turns from Ryuji, to Yusuke. She surveys him up and down with her eyes, and smiles at him, her expression completely changing. "Makoto Nijima, the captain. And you are...?"

Yusuke bows as he did with Sojiro. "Yusuke Kitagawa, royal court painter."

Makoto whistles. "The famous artist? I see. Welcome to the training grounds, which is for soldiers," she shoots a glare at Ryuji, "and not for otherwise."

Yusuke nods. "My apologies. I want to paint the places around here, so excuse me for my behavior."

Makoto thinks for a moment, before smiling again. "Well, you can, as long as you're not bothering anyone; then feel free." Remembering Ryuji, she adds, "and don't let this guy get you in trouble."

"Hey!"

"I'll keep that in mind," Yusuke answers. "I must ask him to escort him to my quarters. I'm content seeing everything there is for now."

Makoto nods towards Ryuji, and he nods rapidly, dragging Yusuke out of the place.

\---

After a lot of forgetting, twists, and turns, Ryuji finally finds the appropriate chamber for Yusuke.

"This is your place," he says, knocking on the wooden door to his room, expression triumphant after finally founding it with much searching. "It's getting late, and since you're going to meet the King tomorrow, you're gonna want all the rest you can get." He looks around, and leans in. "He's good-looking, but he's incredibly intimidating!"

Yusuke is unsure what to do, and just nods. "Very well, I'll do just that." Ryuji pats him on the back, and leaves him hanging at the door of his room.

Yusuke absorbs the view of the entrance to his quarters, and with an anticipating pull, he looks at his place.

Paintings hang on the wall, which he guesses will be replaced routinely; vases are on the appropriate surfaces of his room; a lofty bed, made to fit three or four, but Yusuke is only one person; dome shaped. There are also some windows to give the area an airy and relaxed place.

Overall, simple and comfortable, even though the rest of the castle is way too flamboyant and luxurious for Yusuke's tastes. Just the way he likes his place of residence.

He crashes into the bed, and stares at the ceiling; it's silent in his room, and a little distant; he has no one to write to, since he doesn't have many friends, or any at that -- no one to share his experiences with. He usually spent his time as a hermit, back at home in Ichiryusai, painting -- alone.

It's not like he minds it, which he doesn't; it gets lonely at times, but Yusuke is used to it. At least, maybe he'd get to interact with all the other artists in the atelier -- which he will get to see tomorrow -- and share opinions, and Ryuji, Ann, and Makoto seem like friendly people, which is a boon. Maybe he won't be as alone this time.

And perhaps, maybe the King isn't as intimidating as Ryuji put it.

With that in mind, he drifts off to sleep on the first day in the castle of Yongen.

 

 

 

Yusuke usually wakes up early, as is his habit. He has to wake up when the sun is a little bit above the horizon, but he awakens just as the sun peeks out.

The day I'll meet the king, he thinks to himself.

Recalling what Ryuji tells him, he only prays that he won't be as intimidating as he makes him out to be. Trying to remember where the kitchen is, he stops as a sweet-looking girl shows up on his door with a plate of foods.

"Oh, this is your breakfast!" she says, "I was about to put it in your room -- you're awake early."

"Just a habit," Yusuke answers. She hands him the simple delectables and takes a bow.

"I'm Haru Okumura," she says, smiling. "If you need anything, just ask for me."

Yusuke nods, still confused about his position in the castle, and re-enters his room.

What he is given is a few fruits and cheese; simple things which suffices for Yusuke, for he somehow appreciates eating such. He would love a little bit more, but he couldn't complain.

As he finishes the plate, he is left wanting for more, but he doesn't complain.

After taking a nap, Ryuji shakes him awake.

"No time for sleeping, man," Ryuji says. "Time to meet the King!"

Yusuke groans, but rises.

They all follow the hallway and to the door of the throne room. The huge wooden doors are just in front of them -- all they need to do is be ready.

"Are you ready?" Ryuji asks behind him, facing the door. Yusuke takes a deep breath, and nods.

Yusuke doesn't know what he's expecting; a tyrannical, fully bearded king -- plump and smug? Or a fatherly one, old and wise, gentle? Maybe young and robust?

Ryuji pushes open the door.

Yusuke lifts his head, and locks eyes with the young king.

Akira Kurusu.


	2. My, this is a splendid castle-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The king takes a liking to his court painter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I got really excited and ecstatic, and kept looking at the website to see how much support I'm getting so far.
> 
> Anyway, I've been working again, and I became really scared because my story started to look similar to a different fanfiction. I didn't want to seemingly plagiarize their work, so I decided to skid a little bit off-course and put something new. I know, I know -- typical unmovable rock has to be intrigued to set off the story, which can be found anywhere. I want to be different (my friend did once tell me all romances are cliche though, haha), so I can mold this into my own idea. I'm never going to commercially sell this work, anyhow.
> 
> Finally some Akira & Yusuke moment for you guys. Expect a bit more next chapter. Enjoy reading. ^^

Yusuke rambles too much.

As the doors to the throne room open up to him, his eyes are immediately attracted to the boy who sits upon the throne, his head leaning on his hand, cross-legged and smug.

Akira Kurusu, the supreme king of Yongen.

While his castle is bright, his clothes are dark, Yusuke first noticed; it seems like he favors black, although wearing red gloves (he has gold and silver rings fit on his fingers), he wears a black robe around his shoulders, and everything else about his attire top to bottom is black. Needless to say, he -- or someone who helped him -- is a sharp dresser.

That isn't the rest of him yet, as Yusuke's gaze look upwards into the fair complexion of his king; his wavy, messy black hair, and notably, the smile on his face, as if he's plotting something.

Nothing could describe how mesmerizing he looks.

No matter how beautiful he is, unfortunately, Yusuke couldn't afford to look for too long; the moment they locked eyes, he immediately felt his kingly demeanor -- so intimidating and mighty, his breath catches in his throat.

Ryuji hauls him in front of the king as Yusuke looks at the ground, avoiding the very gaze of his Majesty. Ryuji takes a slight bow, while Yusuke adopts a deep one.

"Yusuke Kitagawa," the masculine voice from above him says.

"Your Majesty," Yusuke says, maintaining his bow.

"Rise."

Yusuke does, except he still looks down at the boots of the King. Ryuji waits at the sidelines, expectant.

What happens next is unexpected; he hears a chuckle from the King himself. A friendly one, not a crazed or cruel one. This time the tone is gentler, except still distant.

"Look me in the eyes," Akira demands of him, and reluctantly, he does.

His eyes are dark gray, almost black, yet almost white; it's almost aloof, but inviting; warm, but cold; close, yet distant. It's all of those things, leaving Yusuke speechless.

Akira's smile slightly widens. "That's much better."

He gets up from his seat and nears Yusuke, looking at him up and down. Yusuke stops breathing as he does, and Akira pulls away slightly, so he can breathe again.

"You're the court painter, right?" Akira asks, and Yusuke nods.

"Yes, I am."

"Painting me?"

Yusuke doesn't note how much of an honor it would be to paint such a person. "Yes, I will."

Akira nods to himself, turning on his heel and pondering on this fact. He turns back to Yusuke momentarily. "How will this be arranged?"

Yusuke doesn't know, since he has never worked for anyone in his time of being an artist -- and frankly, his first job being the painter of the King of Yongen is unbelievable.

"Whenever you feel, your Grace. If you want to be on canvas, then that's what I'll do for you," Yusuke replies, but he turns to the room itself. "Though, you must have a lot of duties, other than being painted."

Akira only hums and tilts his head. "You might be right; tell me something about art. I hear you're a great painter."

Yusuke, an enthusiast for art, couldn't resist such a topic. If anyone asked him about art, he'll go on and on until he loses his breath -- and this is instance isn't excluded.

"Life is full of beauty; there is beauty in everything, your Majesty," Yusuke expresses, looking back at the king. "I merely wish to capture such beauty through painting, and making it much more meaningful -- show the world its splendor we all take for granted. The world is so colorful, divine even, but we've grown so accustomed to seeing it, we don't see it anymore!" Yusuke takes a breath. "Through painting, people finally realize it."

For a moment, Yusuke forgot who he was talking to. After his ramble, he instantly takes a step back and averts his eyes. "Y-Your Highness, I didn't mean to talk so much, I-"

"Interesting."

Yusuke hesitates. He looks back up to his king, smiling so smugly he does a double-take. Ryuji in the background looks uncomfortable, silently excusing himself out of the room.

Damn, abandoned.

Akira waits for the door to close, until turning to Yusuke again. "You're... a unique one." He steps closer to Yusuke, their bangs almost brushing, and as if staring deep into his soul, he looks into Yusuke's gray eyes. "No one speaks to me so honestly upon first meeting. I think I'll like you."

Yusuke almost coughs when he hears that, but stays stiff as a statue. Akira laughs, his kingly, aloof persona shifting into a more mellow one. He retakes his seat on the throne.

"I'm looking forward to your company, Kitagawa-kun," Akira says towards him with a lesser smile, gentler than the former. "You are dismissed; in your free time, paint anything you wish."

Yusuke bows. "Yes, your Majesty."

He turns to exit, walking along the carpet and towards the door. As he's about to push the door, the king says from behind, "I think I like you, so refer to me as Kurusu-sama. We'll get along just fine."

Yusuke nods slightly. "Yes, Kurusu-sama."

He shuts the door behind him, and then takes a deep breath.

They're right. The King truly is intimidating.

 

* * *

 

 

"How did you get out alive with that atmosphere earlier?!" Ryuji exclaims, walking with Yusuke to the kitchen. He waves towards Sojiro, who merely gives him a nod.

"I admit, it's terrifying being alone with the king," Yusuke says, trying to emphasize the alone part -- accusing Ryuji, who gulps. "I don't think he's a bad person, though."

There is a feminine voice from behind. "Not at all!"

They turn around to see Ann, carrying plates of food. She smiles at them, gesturing at the food. "Come on, let's eat together!"

 

They all eat at Yusuke's place, since Ryuji seems uncomfortable with being in a girl's room, and well, Ryuji lives in the barracks. Fortunately for Yusuke, he has a quaint table in his to be able to accommodate his companions.

Ann has an insane amount of sugar-filled delectables on her plate, while Ryuji has tons of meat. Yusuke, on the other hand, has a bizarre dish; it's aesthetically pleasing, but to his two friends, they wonder if it's actually edible. Yusuke proves them wrong as he takes a bite out of it.

"Anyway, Kurusu-sama isn't bad at all; he's a dork, really," Ann says, popping a dessert into her mouth.

Yusuke is speechless, but Ryuji seems unaffected next to him. Ann goes on, "He doesn't know how to pick out his clothes, and he can barely take social cues."

Yusuke sputters into his meal. "He is most charming and polishedly sharp!"

"I help him with his clothing, as part of his Wardrobe," Ann says, rolling her eyes and taking more food. "And well, he might have the charm to knock the socks off nobles, but if you mean daily day-to-day interaction, he's mainly awkward. Seriously."

Ryuji shakes his head. "Come on, Ann, cut the man some slack," he says, cutting his meat and stabbing it with a fork. "He's a good guy; he just hasn't had too many friends."

Yusuke takes a piece of his own dish as well. "Why not?"

"Well, who can you trust? As the king, a lot of people want to get to him to gain power," Ryuji responds, and Yusuke gulps. There's a substantial truth to his statement.

"Understandable," Yusuke can only manage to think of to say, and they gradually shift into a different topic.

 

 **Ryuji** : The food in this place is so damn good!  
**Ann:** I know, right? The pastries are sooo delicious. You guys are missing out.  
**Yusuke** : I second this. I think the components are great materials for arranging them into a beautiful dish.  
**Ann** : Have you ever heard of 'not playing with your food'?  
**Yusuke:** What?

 

* * *

 

 

"The kingdom of Yongen is known for its highly trained servants," Haru says, later in the day as Yusuke surveys the garden. It has a gazebo, and bushes of many types of colorful flowers, dancing along to the light breeze. Haru is in charge of tending to the garden, it seems, currently watering the plants.

"You mean, they took some sort of training to know how to serve tea?" Yusuke asks, also aiding Haru in her task.

Haru chuckles, as light and as sweet as her demeanor. "No, it just means we all know how to fight, in the case of an attack."

Yusuke's hand almost slips, but he continues watering the plants. "Is that so?"

Seeing how wide-eyed he is, she takes in even more amusement. "Yes. I think you'll have to learn, too, soon," she says, but trying to assure him, she adds, "they aren't going to train you as hard as the soldiers, of course, so don't think it's going to be difficult."

Yusuke frankly has a hard time wrapping his head around the fact every servant, even the meek ones, even Haru and Ann, know how to fight against real enemies. Yusuke is tall, but not, by all means, competent in combat.

"How does that work? Do we learn how to handle a gun, or something like that?" Yusuke inquires.

Haru pauses in her task, putting her watering tool down. She steps back, closing her eyes, and then suddenly opening them up with a fierce look in her eyes, calling out "Persona!"

For a moment, the scenery around Yusuke seems to waver, and a large figure appears behind Haru, with a royal and flamboyant dress, mainly pink, a fan in hand, and faceless.

Haru's clothing also changes.

Yusuke looks down, but his clothing is the same. Haru smirks. "Don't you know? In this world, the majority of the nobles have personas which can be used in the Metaverse." She spins a gun in her hand.

"The Metaverse?"

"I... well, I don't know how to explain it, but the Metaverse is a collective virtual space, I guess? Whatever it is, it's an alternate reality, in which people's perception shapes the world. While it's often used for other purposes..." She puts her gun away, and takes out a sword instead. "In the Metaverse, you can unarm a previously fully-decked man and fight them in a helpless battle, in which perception prevails and not reality, to turn even a toy gun into a real one.

Yusuke, attempting to keep up with this, swallows and nods.

The world around them wavers again, and in a moment, Haru's persona disappears. Yusuke looks around, but it's nowhere to be seen. He composes himself, and asks, "how do you go in and out of the Metaverse?"

She shows him the ring on her arm. "As long as it senses our will, it'll put us in the Metaverse." She pulls away. "Anyway, of course, some of the servants have the potential to have a persona, others will have to stick to the old physical fight."

Yusuke looks down at the flower next to him, tickling his leg. He kneels down to trace it. "So many ways for bloodshed," he murmurs. He looks up to Haru. "Fascinating, but I don't know how to feel about it."

Haru picks up her tool, and continues watering the flowers. "We're merely defending ourselves, that's all," she says with a solemn expression.

"I understand," Yusuke says, his voice weak.

After bidding Haru a farewell, he goes to sit at the gazebo, looking at the garden from a view; it's hot outside, but peaceful in itself. When he first saw it, he's captivated by it.  _This is truly the magnificence of Yongen; I didn't expect anything less from such a kingdom to take pride in its beauty, especially its garden. A most excellent choice of colors and arrangement. Perhaps I can one day capture this into my canvas._

 

As he surveys the garden in contemplative silence, his eye is caught by the barracks in the distance.

 _Why not,_ he thinks to himself, and stretches. Maybe he can visit and take a look at the soldiers. Plus, with Haru's warning to him, he'll have to get familiar with the sight of the training grounds.

 

 

 

As he enters, Makoto hails him from a distance, to which he obliges to.

"You're here again? Painting purposes?" She asks, walking through the trainees with him.

"I-- I just heard that I'm going to have to learn how to fight soon," Yusuke says, reluctance hinting in his voice. Makoto nods her head.

"Yeah, but it won't be bad, trust me," she says.

Yusuke then takes the opportunity to inquire, "do you have a persona yourself, captain?"

She looks at him, surprised, but nods. "Yeah, I do."

 _As expected of the captain,_ Yusuke thinks to himself. _I wonder who else has a persona._

 

* * *

 

 

"Your Majesty," a man says, bowing to the king. "I wish to persuade you again that you will have to find a royal consort soon."

Akira rubs his temple, running his hands through the fur of his cat on his lap. "I'm more fond of this cat than that idea," he answers.

"But your Majesty-!" The man protests.

"You're dismissed, and don't try to tell me again," Akira orders, straightening himself. The man gulps, takes a hasty bow, and leaves.

From behind, his personal knight, Ryuji, sighs. Akira looks at him. "What?"

"He's right, you know," Ryuji says, leaning on his throne. "What'll happen if you end up like... well, you're going to need an heir."

Akira waves it away, petting his cat a little more roughly, much to its contempt. "I'm still young; I have plenty of time to get married. I'm not even eighteen yet."

Ryuji shrugs his shoulders, placing his helmet on his head. "Whatever you say."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want yusuke to paint akira like one of his ichiryusain women but he doesnt even have women
> 
> Tell me what you think about it! Comment me some suggestions or something alskdjfhg I'd like to hear yo opinions


	3. - It'd be a lovely painting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The atelier, a paint session, more chatter, and Akechi Goro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I had to reupload the chapter for technical difficulties, so sorry if I somehow messed up your feed or just anything in general!
> 
> TFW Goro Akechi is referred to as Akechi but everyone else goes by first-name basis. I'd make up an elaborate reason for this, but I'm just going to be truthful and say I only did that because it felt weird for me to write Goro. Sorry about that!
> 
> I hope this chapter won't bore you. I need more ideas for shukita! I'm a hopeless romantic and absolutely love shukita, but I need ideas from other fans of the ship. Suggest me some ideas, and I'll definitely hear you out!
> 
> I'm steering clear of similarities in other fanfics (still apparent though), and finally introducing some conflict. I don't want to necessarily make this into a slice-of-life, so we'll have a few antagonists and a conflict I'll flesh out and write an outline for so it isn't just some mumbo jumbo. What could Touquio (a parody of Tokyo) possibly be planning?
> 
> As always, comment some feedback and suggestions for me, I -always- appreciate them! <3

 

Yusuke finally visits the atelier for the first time the next morning; it's large, enough to accommodate the many artists inhabiting it. Some of them sit and paint on their canvas; others look at naked models for their drawing. The room is messy, tools sprawled on the floor everywhere, and paintings hang on the wall; there are also canvases leaning against the wall for public use.

As Yusuke makes his way through the room, the other painters look up at him, a gleam of recognization in their eyes, but Yusuke attempts not to pay attention to it. He takes his own canvas, gets a seat, and puts it down on a nearby area.

He can hear the whispers that now overcomes the workshop.

"That's Yusuke Kitagawa..."

"The way he walks -- it's as if being the King's personal painter makes him better than us..."

"He's so young; he thinks he's all that..."

For most of his career, he heard nothing but praises; it's a new development. Yusuke doesn't know if it's because they're artists, or -- a thought strikes him -- that's what they've been saying behind his back this whole time; scorns of having it easy as a prodigy, glares of envy, their false praise. Yusuke decides to put that out of his mind, and instead focus on what topic he should paint about.

Dabbing some paint onto his brush, he decides to replicate the garden; he decides to draw the plants first, adding intricate details to make the flowers beautiful and sparkle in the sunlight. He adds one flower, which hasn't bloomed yet, not facing the sun as the others do.

When he's satisfied with it, he puts his brush down.

 

Today is going to be the first appointment he has with the King; after his Majesty hastily put aside anything he has for the span of time Yusuke is going to be painting, he finally clears his schedule.

When Yusuke hears about this, he insisted for the King to change his mind and focus on working as the King, though Ann dissuades him ("he's too stubborn to change his mind.").

Yusuke, with more determination not to waste His Majesty's time, hurries to the throne room, where Akira is seated upon on, waiting. He pushes the door open, and Akira smiles it at him as he nears.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting your Ma-- I mean, Kurusu-sama," Yusuke says, bowing and setting up his station nearby.

Akira nods. "You wish to paint me... now?" He asks.

Yusuke responds in full, nodding fervently and grabbing a seat, spreading his art supplies out (but away from the carpet). "Frankly, you look magnificent on the throne," Yusuke notes, but he quickly adds, "Oh, but you look splendid in whatever you do."

Unexpectedly, Akira curls his hair with his fingers. "T... Thank you," he says, looking away. "That's an overstatement, but thank you."

Yusuke begins to find the palette for his painting. He seems focused  
on his work, but he says, "nonsense, your Highness, I only speak the truth--" he gestures at him. "Look this way please, I'll need you to stay like that while I do so."

Akira awkwardly positions himself so, doing his signature pose of leaning on his hand and sitting cross-legged. Yusuke is nearly tempted to start work on Akira himself, but he convinces himself to work on the other parts first.

"Right, sorry," Akira says with a chuckle.

Akira's clothing is similar to his yesterday; red gloves, and black attire head to toe. Last time, he was much more intimidating and kingly; this time, he's like an average person, still handsome, but approachable. Yusuke can't explain why, but he decides it's a good thing.

After a few minutes pass, Akira seems tired staying in the same position for the time, so Yusuke tells him to stretch a little before going back to his old place, which he takes gratefully.

"Pardon me for my rudeness, Kurusu-sama," Yusuke exclaims, still painting, "but is this your first time?"

"Yeah, and I'll admit -- I'm a bit nervous," Akira says with a nod, but Yusuke chuckles slightly.

"There's no need to be tense," Yusuke assures him, "I'm merely painting you."

Akira gets back on the throne, and resumes his former position. As time passes by, Yusuke is ready to start work on Akira's figure; he uses light paint to make it his complexion.

He puts down his paint and tells Akira, "let's continue this another day; it'll fatigue you to stay still for too long, it's best to take a break," Yusuke says, getting up from his seat and stretching.

Akira heaves a sigh, and stands up himself. He stretches as well, cracking a bone or two.

While Yusuke packs up his art supplies from his seat, Akira peeks from his shoulders, inspecting the canvas up and down. Only when Yusuke turns his head does he realizes how incredibly close he is. To see such a beauty from so closely is something Yusuke didn't expect.

"K-Kurusu-sama," Yusuke stammers, pushing his chair farther from Akira, much to his oblivion, before he could stare at him.

"Sorry, you didn't want me to look at your work-in-progress?" Akira asks, blinking at him once. Yusuke stands up to pick up the canvas carefully.

"It's... nothing," Yusuke says, shaking his head. He bows once again. Finally, he takes the opportunity to ask, "You seem friendlier today, Kurusu-sama, which, forgive me, enabled me to talk so casually with you. Did something happen?"

Akira blinks. "Nothing in particular," he responds, waving it away. "I admit... I might be a little intimidating when I want to be. Though on occasions like these, I don't keep up appearances. It's mostly for the nobles and first meetings."

_Oh_. Yusuke thinks. _That's why._ At least it'll make Yusuke's job easier -- being able to look him in the eye and all.

"It's why I said I think I'll like you," Akira explains. "Nobody can stare at me in the eye for too long, let alone look at me, when I become 'the King of Yongen,' and not 'Kurusu.' So I appreciate you being able to speak with me so freely, let alone look at me for too long." He chuckles.

Something in Yusuke stirs, though he ignores it. "No need, my King. It's only one of my jobs, as a person under you."

Akira rolls his eyes, and for a brief moment in his kingly persona, he says, "right. You're dismissed." He flicks his wrist.

Yusuke scurries out of the throne room, shutting the door gently behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

For the rest of the day, Yusuke wonders if it's why Ann can speak about him so casually, as if he's her equal, her peer, friend even; it's baffling for the King to be so relaxed.

As he eats lunch among with Ryuji and Ann again, he explains what happens and his opinion in it, and Ann nods. "I told you he doesn't know what is awkward or not; he just does what he wants."

"I think it's admirable of him," Yusuke says in his defense, and Ann laughs.

"He's kind of cool, right?" Ryuji remarks, biting into his meat. He swallows and wipes his mouth with his hand (much to the female's disapproval). "Only puts up his king act when he meets with the other royalty. It seems pretty rough."

Ann nods. "Yeah... I don't think I can deal with that. I believe the reason why he's so relaxed is because he's still young, you know?" She shrugs her shoulders, cutting the cake in front of her. "I know he's smart and all, but I think being laid back can be a blessing and a curse. At least he knows how to pick his allies."

Ryuji waves a fork, meat impaled on it, towards Ann. "The King's just got five backup plans for worst-case scenarios! It's true he's reckless... but he does plan ahead for the most part."

Yusuke just lets the two of them go back and forth.

**Ann:** He insists wearing black, and for what, I don't know.  
**Ryuji** : Favorite color?  
**Yusuke:** It does look well on him. I wouldn't complain.  
**Ann:** Right, but I wonder what other colors will suit him...  
**Ryuji:** Girls for you.  
**Ann:** Excuse me?

 

* * *

 

 

"Your Majesty, a visitor has arrived," a messenger says, bowing down. "Akechi Goro, Prince of Touquio."

_More nobility_ , Akira thinks, rolling his eyes. "Send him in."

What comes out is a boy -- a little bit older than Akira -- with shaggy brown hair and reddish-brown eyes. It's easy to see he's a prince; his white royal garb (with red trim) practically gives it away.

Ahh, Akechi; he's famous as royalty, as well. He has the looks, he's well-mannered, and smart. His primary asset is reasoning, which makes him a formidable foe in a battle of wits. Akira can only hope he doesn't engage him in such, but he's confident he can beat him if it ever comes to that. Even though Akechi is younger than him and still the prince, Akira only finds pride in that fact.

"What do you want?" Akira demands, leaning forward. Touquio has been a neighboring friend swaying in favors of Yongen; sometimes it exalts Yongen, others, it wants to destroy it.

"No need to be so hostile, your Majesty," Akechi says, practically humming, and he smiles. "I only come in hopes of negotiating something with you."

Akira lifts an eyebrow. "That is?"

"An alliance!" He says, clasping his hands together, his smile getting even wider. "It'll be beneficial for both of our kingdoms. We'll be able to stand any enemy that comes along our way, as one of the most revered in the land."

_What is he plotting?_ Akira thinks. Akira doesn't know how to feel about Akechi; he seems like a friendly one, but he gives off a strange vibe which he isn't thrilled about.

"For what?" Akira asks, a safe question anyone would ask about.

Akechi looks thoughtful for a moment. "Why, is there a reason to want to reap the benefits of joined kingdoms?"

"If it were like that, you would've asked earlier," Akira remarks, leaning back in his chair -- though his tone isn't cold; it's smug and confident, and sure to get under Akechi's skin.

"We just realized it now!" Akechi insists, his voice sounding more strained. Bingo.

"Why did you come here instead of a messenger?" Akira further questions.

"An alliance is a great deal," he says with a solemn nod. "As the prince, it's my duty to be the representative of the kingdom."

Akira finalizes the meeting. "I will think about it," he merely says, looking away, and Akechi takes one more bow.

"Looking forward to it, your Highness."

When Akechi leaves, Akira rubs his face roughly, and Ryuji leans over to him. "What's up with that guy? You think he's plotting something?"

"Definitely," Akira agrees, leaning on his hand once more. "I don't intend to give him the satisfaction of succeeding, though."

Ryuji laughs. "You're confident."

Akira raises an eyebrow. "When have I not?"

Ryuji doesn't comment.

 

 

 

"Father." Akechi bows, his movements swift and graceful. "I came to the kingdom Yongen, but I see we're going to need more negotiating from them. Then, we can perhaps..."

His father, on the throne, taps his finger on the arm of his seat. "Very well. Do what you must, any means, as long as we get their alliance."

Akechi bows once again. "What you will."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love my akechi bb but he gots to be antagonist :(


	4. Although,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another paint session (suprised?), more chatter, garden FT. Akira, and an alliance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHERE'S MY BB FUTABA? I still haven't gotten a chance to introduce her. :^(
> 
> Anyway, a lovely user has suggested I somehow use Social Links -- and I have an idea, which won't be apparent until much later on, though! I'm trying to figure out how I can introduce it more early on, one of them featuring Cookie Monster Haru. Maybe I can make their personas more major in the story, but I think it's too late for that now.
> 
> Anyway, two shukita today for you. Managed to keep my daily update streak going because I have so much free time... I don't know if that's a good thing... That, and well, all of you guys' support keeps me going. Also a special family member. ly <3
> 
> BUT as always, please enjoy! -Thumbs up-
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Also I got lazy proofreading it ahaha tell me any mistakes you see and I'll edit it tomorrow when I have motivation to proofread it lolol~~

Akira is troubled.

Akira holds another painting session again; Yusuke starts work on his portrait once more, and while he is busy, Akira thinks about Touqio's plot. Sure, Touqio might loathe Yongen, but it has also loved it -- well, for a time. It's an on and off relationship between the two, but Touqio has never been so drastic as to want to tear down Yongen into pieces ultimately -- at least, he doesn’t think so.

Halfway through the session, Yusuke notices the King’s discomfort; still focusing on his portrait, he asks, “Kurusu-sama? Is something bothering you?”

Akira comes back from his reverie, and blinks. “Oh, I was just thinking about something,” he says, shaking his head. “It 's not really important.”

  
Yusuke tilts his head, a few strands of his hair falling onto his face, and pauses in his task. “Is it a personal problem? It’s okay to confide in me.”

Akira looks nervous for a moment. He shakes his head again, and Yusuke shrugs his shoulders as he continues to work. Yusuke can’t forget his King’s worries, though; his frown would ruin his vision, for he wanted to capture his smile.

“Is there anything I can do for you, my King?” Yusuke asks, putting down his paint. “It’s really off-putting to find a king such as yourself looking down.”

Akira smiles at him, and for a reason unknown, Yusuke feels a whole lot better. “Just a few troubles with acquaintances. I have a frenemy who I think is out to get me.” Trying not to make it sound serious, he chuckles.

“Who would loathe you?” Yusuke says, frowning. “Plus, you’re the king.”

The young king scratches his head. “It’s complicated.”

“Ah,” Yusuke says, and gets back to the task at hand. “I don't think I can understand; I’ve never had many friends. You know Ann and Ryuji, yes? Some others like Makoto and Haru that I’m not sure you know -- they’re my first friends.”

As mentioned before, Yusuke is certainly famous, except he was a hermit who didn't interact with the others. Sure, there was the occasional chat, but there was no need for Yusuke to socialize early then.

Akira looks thoughtful for a moment, before something catches his attention. “You don’t consider me as a friend?”

Yusuke almost drops his brush. He looks at the king briefly, whose smile slowly creeps onto his face. “K-Kurusu-sama, how can I possibly be friends with someone in your position?” he sputters, wide-eyed.

The young male lifts his gloved hand towards his chin. “Are you saying I’m not good enough to be your friend?”

Akira might’ve overdone it; Yusuke looked incredibly aghast and alarmed, miraculously still holding onto his paint brush (though with the expression on his face, he might've smeared his canvas). “N-No, of course not! I -- I only meant that you're a king, compared to me. How does someone in your position possibly befriend someone as lowly as me?”

Akira’s guilty about making him so nervous, but also pleased to get him riled up. It’s conflicting. He laughs. “I'm kidding.”

The alarm on Yusuke’s face subsides, melting into a frown. After a few minutes, he packs up his art supplies and takes the canvas into his arm. “I'll finish up today.”

Akira blinks. “Did I do something wrong?”

Yusuke shakes his head fervently. “It's not your fault, your Highness; I just don't think I can paint efficiently today.”

 _So it **is** my fault_ , Akira thinks.

The King looks visibly deflated, and Yusuke feels guilt course through him. He speaks up, “Kurusu-sama, if you want to… you can accompany me while I paint the flowers?”

Akira's interest piques. “How would I help you?”

Yusuke shakes his head. “You're the King, so you don't have to do anything; just admire them with me?”

Yusuke doesn't know how to rid of the King's apparent disappointment, so he's pleased as he sees the boy eagerly nod.

“All right.”

* * *

 

Ryuji almost chokes on his meat. “You,” he says, tone even and slow -- which is scary, since Ryuji is never even and slow. “You invited the _king_ to paint with _you?_ ”

“Is that bad?” Yusuke asks, arranging his food into something like an art piece. His blonde hair shakes his head, but his eyes are still wide.

“No! It’s just… he’s the king!” Ryuji exclaims, and then taking a bite out of his meal. He swallows and continues, “how will he be able to find the time to do it with you, though?”

Ann chimes in. “He likes to get things out of the way quickly. He’ll probably have the time for it. Though I’ll admit, that’s unusual, though…” She rubs her neck. “In any case, maybe he just took a liking to you?”

 _I think I’ll like you,_ Akira’s voice rings within Yusuke’s head. He shivers. “I… I don’t know.” He shrugs.

Ann pats him on the shoulder. “The King has always been like that; if he’s going to feel one way, he’s going to be devoted to feeling that way exclusively. If he dislikes a particular food, it’ll never enter his sight again. If he has an ally, he’s their ally forever, unless they turn their back on him -- but rarely anyone does.”

 

 **Ryuji** : Dude, are you saying the King swings that way?  
**Ann** : It doesn’t necessarily mean that way. It might be platonic.  
**Yusuke** : It’s a miracle it’s even platonic.  
**Ryuji** : Oh… well… maybe he does.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t go out to the gardens much, but it’s beautiful,” Akira muses, walking in front Ryuji, who’s on-duty for protecting the King at occasions he goes out into broad daylight. He hangs back, doing his own business while watching them. Akira leans down to look at the flowers.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” Yusuke says, joining him. He strokes at a blooming one gently, knowing it’s fragile. It’s part of the flowers around the purple and pink range, ten petals circling the center. “I’m currently drawing the gardens as an off-duty project; I wish to be humble, but I must say it’s going well. Oh, may I introduce you to someone?”

Akira blinks, but nods. Yusuke leads him to Haru, who bows in a swift, practiced movement. “What brings you here, your Majesty?”

“Admiring the flowers,” Akira answers with a nod.

“Great to hear that!” Haru enthusiasts, her face brightening. “This one’s the Silene dioca…”

Akira looks back to Yusuke behind him, seeking for assistance, but Yusuke merely shrugs and sets up his painting session. He continues to listen to Haru, nevertheless, who rambles on and on about the many plants and flowers the garden has to offer.

When he finally gets off the hook, he peruses Yusuke’s canvas in awe; it’s lively and colorful, dancing with enthusiasm and positivity. It conveys an energetic and yet serene garden, a gazebo in the distance with a girl sitting in it, asleep. The sun shines down on it, making it look like a utopia; all of the flowers are blooming, but one.

“It’s… wow,” Akira says, nearly speechless.

“There’s a lot I want to change,” Yusuke responds, “but I’m overall satisfied with it.”

As Yusuke begins to paint, Akira hangs back to watch. The grace in Yusuke’s each stroke is apparent, the way it slides effortlessly along the canvas, each one clean with not a stray paint in sight, and his swiftness. Yes, Yusuke is revered as one of the best in the land for a reason.

“Kurusu-sama, you don’t have to watch me paint, you know,” Yusuke says, looking back at Akira. “There are gorgeous flowers right behind you.”

He blinks once. Akira holds in the temptation to call Yusuke a flower, and merely gets a different idea. “Okay… I have an idea. Be right back.”

He hurries towards Haru, heaving heavy packs of nutritious soil. “Do you perhaps have a few flowers? I don’t want to pluck one off the ground,” Akira asks her, and she dips, not being able to manage a full bow.

“I usually prepare a few just in case you need a bouquet,” Haru answers. “What do you need them for?”

“Nothing in particular,” Akira responds. “I only need one flower, though.” Without question, Haru drops off her soil nearby and whisks away somewhere. She comes back with a bluish-purple flower, fragile to the touch yet as stunning as all the flowers in the garden.

“Blue delphinium, Larkspur,” Haru informs him. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” She smiles.

Before he can give her his gratitude, he asks, “do you have a mirror I can borrow?”

Akira thanks her, and hiding the flower behind his back, he returns to Yusuke. Upon his arrival, Yusuke greets him, and goes back to painting.

“Yusuke, turn to me and close your eyes for a moment,” Akira commands him.

“What for?” Yusuke asks, but does what he says.

Akira grins. “You’ll see.” He gets close to Yusuke, and then gently puts the flower between his head and ear, snug and comfortable. Yusuke tries not to flinch, but isn’t displeased. Akira steps back and says, “All right, you can open them.”

Yusuke, confused, opens his eyes, which immediately dart towards the new object on his ear. He tilts his head (not towards the flower side of course). “What’s this?” And in an instant, Akira flashes him a mirror, which he sees his reflection.

He sees the blue flower, which almost blends with his hair. He touches it gently, before withdrawing his hand. Yusuke is amazed to find such a fragile beauty so mystical and mesmerizing. Akira will admit it fits him too well. Yusuke looks on, speechless, as Akira puts away the mirror. Akira just looks away, curling his hair between his fingers and hiding a smile on his face. “Now I can watch you paint while admiring the flowers..."

Yusuke attempts to process all this, touching the flower delicately beneath his fingers. He puts his hand away, and heaves a deep breath. “I admit it will take a space of my eye… but I quite like it. I’ll keep it there.”

Akira doesn't know the repercussions of his actions.

* * *

 

“Your Highness, it seems Touqio has ceased trading with us unless we accept their alliance,” one of the advisors tell him as Akira settles on his throne. Great, a good day has flown out of the window.

Touqio also has massive influence over Yongen’s trading; it’s only natural for neighboring kingdoms to trade, as the travelling distance is convenient. At this rate, he’s going to lose nearly half of the trade permanently if he doesn’t seal a deal with Touqio.

What could they be possibly doing, though? They’d suffer the consequences as well; why are they insistent? Akira can’t understand. What they’re doing is probably major, then. Akira can’t guarantee what they’re planning is against him specifically, only a slight feeling. An alliance with Touqio might be beneficial, but it also makes both kingdoms vulnerable.

The advisor takes a deep breath. “They’re threatening… war.”

Akira’s headache seems to amplify. Great. He’s sixteen, and a king, and he’s going to war. His parents might’ve taught him what to do at war, but to put it into action, for the first time, with a competent foe -- Akira has to be prepared.

“I don’t want to be allies with them,” Akira answers, scooting deeper into his chair.

“But your Grace!” the advisor cries. “Think of all the homes that will be ruined! The crash of economy! Both Touqio and our kingdom will fall!”

  
Akira reconsiders. Well, an alliance will prevent all of the disasters that may happen -- a crash in the economy, wasted lives, burnt property, unease. If he does agree and _they are_ plotting something, maybe, just maybe, he can counter it and use it to his advantage.

He doesn’t want to be hasty, though; their plans are no doubt grand, to go to such lengths and risk a catastrophe on their own kingdom. Such grand a scheme might be easy to exploit, since there are a lot of steps and they might’ve glossed over scenarios they aren’t prepared for. Akira could have a chance, whilst if he refuses the alliance, there wouldn’t be a chance in the first place, other than the satisfaction of not letting the other go through with their plans.

Akira sighs, and nods, running a hand through his hair. “All right. Arrange a meeting with Touqio.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) flower you say


	5. I like its ruler more-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Infatuation, a smol girl, bumping into royalty, and alliances. WAIT, THERE'S MORE! Bad jokes FT. Ryuji, social links, and then meeting a social link IFYOUKNOWWHATIMEAN.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! You thought I'd break my daily streak which-will-happen-soon-enough-but-not-today? You thought wrong.
> 
> We got our girl here now! FINALLY. Also finally got an idea how to introduce social links which -- don't worry -- will be vital towards the end of the story. Not so much together time with Yusuke and Akira, but Yusuke is definitely thinking of Akira in this chapter. Here's some light angst for you angsty and edgy people there in the world. Still sweet and sugary for the diabetic kids like me out there. On the topic of spiciness, there MIGHT just be one in the far future, but will not be required for the story, as much as I want it to be meaningful, so I can appeal to both spicy hot and sugary sweet readers.
> 
> AS ALWAYS -- enjoy this chapter and suggest me stuff. Cuz I like suggestion... stuff.
> 
> BTW this [( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)](http://imgur.com/a/3xjnH)

Yusuke is infatuated.

Yusuke put the delphinium into a vase in front of his room; his mind still thinks about the scene back in the gardens, how the King delicately places the flower on his ear, the gentle smile he gave him, how beautiful Akira looked in the sun--

No, stop it. He’s the _King_. Yusuke is the court painter, and nothing more. He can’t--

_I think I’ll like you._

Before he realizes it, the paintbrush is out of his hand. He looks at the ground, where it lays discarded, and sighs. It must be true he can’t resist anything -- or anyone -- beautiful such as his King. It’s probably a moment of infatuation, though he curses himself for getting touched at the very thought of Akira placing the flower on him as if it suited him, as if he’s worthy even to get the King to do such a thing for him.

The other painters are starting to look, so he picks it up quickly. Concluding he can’t do any work on his painting at this point where he's off somewhere else, he packs up his canvas, and thinks about where to go. Ryuji is off with Akira, Ann is somewhere doing her duties, Haru is as well, and Makoto is overseeing her men.

He instead, comes to the kitchen, where he can survey the work of the chefs; Yusuke has no business in the kitchen, but they always welcome him there as if he’s part of the ‘gang’. Whenever Ryuji, Ann, and he go to the kitchen to get some food, Sojiro would greet him, and the other staff will attempt small talk with him as well.

“Yusuke? What are you doing here so early? Got hungry already?” One of the chefs tease. Yusuke smiles.

“Not really, but if you insist,” Yusuke responds, and the chef laughs.

“Do me one favor,” he says, and presses a key on Yusuke’s free hand. “In the quarters for the dining staff, there’s a closet; we need a mop, since someone dropped the sauce-” he sighs. “Again. I’m a little busy running a different errand, so can you do that for me?”

  
“Oh, all right,” Yusuke says, closing his hand.

Over the course of Yusuke’s time in the castle, he has only ventured a little, but he’s already gotten the hang of how it’s designed; usually, servants and staff quarters are along narrow halls, so when he comes across the nameplates of chefs, he breathes a sigh of relief.

As he walks through the halls, he comes across a door which doesn’t have a nameplate. That must be the closet, he thinks to himself, and opens the door.

Except, instead of a closet, he opens to a bedroom of someone’s -- and it’s occupied.

By a bespectacled girl with bright orange hair, crouched among engineering parts scattered on the floor.

“Sojiro, I told yo-” she begins, but then freezes as she sees Yusuke’s figure instead of, apparently, Sojiro.

“I-”

“Eek!” she exclaims, withdrawing below the bottom of her bed, which surprisingly, fits into it.

“I didn’t mean to enter; I was just looking for the closet-”

“Please please please please,” she chants softly to herself.

Yusuke resigns, and closes the door.

Wrong room.

 

* * *

 

 

“Sojiro, I accidentally came upon a girl who said your name -- do you know who she is?” Yusuke asks Sojiro, busy tasting the flavor of a soup, and he nearly drops his spoon as he hears this. His eyes widen as he turns around to Yusuke.

“What? Do you know what she looks like?” Sojiro exclaims, with apparent surprise.

“She had glasses, and really long orange hair,” Yusuke muses, looking thoughtful as he holds his chin. “She looked quite young.”

“How did you meet her?” He presses on further, adjusting his glasses and placing the spoon onto the bowl.

“Wrong room,” Yusuke answers with a shrug. “She didn’t have a nameplate.”

He hears Sojiro visibly sigh, and then turn to him. “She’s my… daughter.”

Yusuke takes a step backward, placing a hand on his mouth. “You have a wife, Boss?” Yusuke has gotten used to calling him such names, hanging with Ryuji and Ann often; apparently, he’s the head chef, thus earning him a title.

“N… No,” he says, scratching his head and looking away. “I’m her adoptive father.”

Ahh. Yusuke understands now. He doesn’t ask him why, instead, he says, “is there a way for me to speak to her again?” he asks. “I wanted to apologize for barging into her room. She seems so… shaken.”

Sojiro waves it away, turning back to the soup. “She’s just never met a lot of people. I need to get back to work, so do your art thing. I’ll have to ask her consent for that.”

Yusuke, with nothing more to discuss, nods.

 

* * *

 

 

With nothing else to do, for the first time since his stay in the castle,

Yusuke is bored.

There’s no one to talk to, which is what Yusuke has always been accustomed to for as long as he can remember, but that’s because he could paint. He can’t now, with thoughts of his Majesty soaring through his head 120 mph. The kitchen is only good for sightseeing for a few hours, and even that, you get too accustomed to it and tire of watching it.

He could go to the gardens and admire the flowers, sure, but there’s no Haru to distract him from thinking even more about Akira. Makoto has been busy for a reason he doesn’t know, Ann is doing her job, and so is Ryuji.

In short, Yusuke is all alone.

As he wanders the halls aimlessly, he blanks out for a while until a person comes into view, and before he can skid to a halt, it’s too late.

He runs into someone, who yelps in surprise, but Yusuke is fast to cover the latter’s fall, albeit he injures his hand. He inhales through his teeth, gritted to endure the pain, and then turns his head to look at the other recipient.

It’s another lovely face, but Yusuke doesn’t feel as curious as he was when he met the royal King. Though by his attire, it’s very well so that he’s of royalty. And he just bumped into him, albeit saved him from the severity of crashing onto the floor.

A sweet smile spreads across the aristocratic male’s face, tilting his head. “Thank you for saving me,” he says, tone gentle and light on the tongue. _He must be popular_ , Yusuke thinks.

“It’s only natural, since I crashed into you,” Yusuke answers, trying to steady the other boy. He looks about his age.

“I also wasn’t looking where I was going,” he protests, “so you’re still very kind to do it.”

They finally get to stand up, and from behind him, guards come running after him. “S-Sorry your Highness, we just-”

The boy shakes his head. “It’s fine,” he says, and the men take a bow. He looks back to Yusuke with a questioning look in his eyes. “And what’s your name?”

  
Yusuke bows on cue. “I am the royal court painter, Yusuke Kitagawa,” he answers, and the royal’s eyes widen.

“Ah, I’ve heard about you!” He enthuses. He holds out his hand for Yusuke to shake. “My name is Akechi Goro, Prince of Touqio.”

  
Yusuke doesn’t really care for much about geography and politics, but since he’s the prince, he’s still of importance, and a guest of Yongen’s kingdom. He takes his hand and shakes it. “Pleased to meet you.”

“I hate to be rude,” Akechi says, putting his hand away as their handshake falls. “But I have business to conduct with your king. Please excuse me.” He takes a bow, and continues walking.

 _I wonder…_ Yusuke thinks, but pays no more mind to it.

 

* * *

 

 

“I want to forge an alliance,” Akira says, his pose same as always on the throne. His demeanor is completely composed and kingly as the day he met Yusuke, which affects Akechi only slightly. He’s as confident as Akira, after all.

“I knew you’d come around,” Akechi says with a smile Akira has come to be suspicious of -- what could he be hiding under that curved mouth of his?

Well, he’ll have to find out.

“In return -- you don’t wage war, and we continue to trade,” Akira says, trying to confirm his end of the deal.

“We’re only too happy to hold you on that too,” Akechi answers with a nod. “We’ll be doing no such thing if we are to be allied; we’ll be feared among all the other kingdoms -- an unstoppable force, your Highness.”

Akira leans on his arm farther. “Perhaps.”

“A fact my king,” Akechi says. He smirks. “A fact.”

 

* * *

 

 

After some time passes, Yusuke finally joins with Ryuji and Ann. They grab some food, and they come to the usual place, which is Yusuke's room.

“I saw what you did yesterday,” Ryuji says with a sideways glance. He points to the flower on the table, and Yusuke looks down, face _almost_ flushed.

  
“The King is smooth; tugged at your heartstrings, didn't it?”

“I prefer not to say,” Yusuke answers, and he's surprised his voice doesn't crack. Ann just laughs.

“It's so obvious that you do!” Ann says, her utensils crashing into her plate with a clatter. “I don't know if Kurusu-sama likes you too.”

“Did you look at him? Wait, no, you weren't there-”

“I wish! Who could gain the affection of one of the most revered painters in the land?”

“-The King put a flower in his ear. It's obvious he likes him as well.”

Ann sighs, a dream and feverish look in her eyes. Yusuke shifts in his seat uncomfortably.

“No, he doesn't, he's just like this all the time, isn't he?” Yusuke disputes.

“Only with the nobles he's trying to seduce, except he's more… well, he has a thing for innuendos.”

This time, Yusuke does flush a little. Slightly, unnoticeable, inconspicuous.

“I'm pretty sure he's done it before,” Ann chimes in, and Yusuke's headache amplifies.

 **Yusuke** : Can… can we not talk about this right now?  
**Ann** : Okay. Yeah, sure. So I was meeting with this girl who's new to the Wardrobe, she was a…  
**Ryuji:** You can say she's trying to get into the pants.  
**Ann** : …  
**Yusuke** : …  
**Ryuji** : I'm a damn genius.

 

* * *

 

 

Haru is out in the gardens again, which Yusuke comes to appreciate after his interval of pure boredom and aimlessness.

“Do you know what social links are, Yusuke?”

Yusuke shakes his head. “Never heard of it.”

Haru stands up with a sigh, formerly kneeling down to survey the plants’ conditions, and explains, “you get social links with people you're able to build relationships with. The higher your relations are, the closer you are to them.”

Yusuke tilts his head. “Wouldn't that be anyone and everyone?”

Haru shakes her head. “Certain people. I think how it works is if you have the potential to form a social link and you have a persona, you'll make one on the spot for the person you're friends with. And here's the exciting part.” She grabs a watering can from the ground, and then pours it among the flowers and plants evenly. “Everyone has a certain arcana. If your persona aligns with your friends’ arcana, both of you benefit with more power, the closer you are to them. Though certain people like the King has the Fool as an arcana, and can switch personas when he captures one. Others will have only one, and just that one.”

Yusuke blinks, pondering on her explanation. “And how does one capture a persona?”

Haru seems pleased at his inquiry. “The Metaverse. Like I said before, multiple ways to use it. Enter palaces, it's crawling with monsters that can be utilized as a persona. Or,” she takes a breath. “You take someone else's.”

Yusuke tilts his head, crossing his arms. “So they lose their personas?” Haru nods.

 _Has the King ever took anyone's?_ He thinks to himself, but he has no time to think as-

“Speak of the devil. There's the King.”

He looks up to lock eyes with his object of affection. Akira Kurusu.

“I thought you'd be here.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is yusuke chaste


	6. -He's simply too lovely to look at

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coffee, a kid genius, another kid genius, the Velvet test, flower arrangements, and Shido Masayoshi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I was dead? Finally broke my daily updating schedule? Both!
> 
> So I'm three days behind, THREE. To make it up to you guys, I'm currently writing doggedly. Today, I'm presenting you with a 4k word chapter. It'd be 6k, but it didn't feel right to put in events that didn't correlate with each other. There are chapters for a reason! Anyway, you're going to like the future chapters -- I ripped off the idea from Korean dramas. Anyway, chapters as of now are going to prepare for the Grand Festival, upcoming drama of the story, develop relationships, and so forth, with shukita moments sprinkled in. After I get all of the preparations out of the way, get ready for some lovin'. 
> 
> Enjoy the preparations while I get the main course of dancing, mystery, diabetes, and angst and suggestions welcome! Remember I owe you guys an extra 2k words.
> 
> BTW, how about a proposal for you guys? Would you rather I update NOT daily, but you get more words per chapter? Sound good? Let me know.

Yusuke is stunned.

Akira came to the gardens -- just because he thought Yusuke would be there. Whether it nearly stopped his heart or made it beat rapidly, he doesn’t know through the daze he’s in. He bows before he can just stand there, awkward, bewildered by his presence. “Kurusu-sama.”

Akira hits his head like an axe, causing an “oomph” from Yusuke. It wasn’t hard, but it surprises. Yusuke stands straight again, finding a grin on Akira’s face. “Am I really that intimidating?”

Yusuke doesn’t know how to answer the question, and merely says, “it’s only natural for me to bow for you, you’re the King.” Akira looks at him with a dull expression, and points at the gazebo behind him.

“Right, right,” Akira says. “Now, sit there for a moment. I have something for you.”

Yusuke, unknowing, nods, and goes as Haru nudges at him and winks, much to his confusion. He sits at the gazebo as he watches servants bring Akira a few cups, for what, he doesn’t know. Akira takes two, the servants bow, and he approaches Yusuke. He offers one to him. “Here,” he says, smiling. Yusuke takes it, curious, and stares inside its contents.

It’s dark and murky with a robust smell. Yusuke acknowledges it as coffee; he prefers tea, but coffee isn’t bad for him either. He takes a sip of it, and bitterness and sweetness blend together to make a perfect balance.

“This is… amazing, your Highness,” Yusuke says, gazing inside the cup, a gleam in his eye. “Did someone make it for you?”

Akira finishes sipping his own, and he says, “well, I make my own sometimes.”

Yusuke didn’t think he heard that correctly. “You make your own?”

“Yeah.”

…  
…  
…

So this is the King’s coffee.

…

“K-Kurusu-sama-”  
“I know what you’re thinking,” Akira says, rubbing his neck and adjusting his cape. “I can make my servants do it themselves. I learned this from Sojiro. Yes, I talk to him. Yes, I enjoy making coffee.”

Well, that got those questions out of the way. Yusuke opens his mouth to ask another question, but Akira cuts him off. “And no, it doesn’t matter if you’re worthy or not to have a coffee I made myself. I came here to bug you, so you might as well enjoy it.” Akira grins, triumphant, as Yusuke has no more question. Akira must’ve recited this.

“S-Still. May I ask why you’re here, as well?”

Akira forgot about the most obvious question. He tilts his head, staring at the ceiling. He looks back at Yusuke. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” He gestures with his hand.

Ah. A friend. Yusuke is nearly disappointed to hear him say that, but it’s only to be expected. He shouldn’t even be feeling this way, being friends with him is nothing short of a miracle in itself, and it’s selfish to think of anything more than friendship. He swallows his feelings and nods, giving him a smile. “Yes, we are.”

Akira looks happier. “Then just for today, all right?”

Yusuke hesitates, and looks towards the garden; being able to enjoy the peaceful garden, a cup of coffee in hand, with a person of his affections -- it’s more than Yusuke can ever ask for. If he was able to capture this moment, he would. Yusuke looks back at Akira, who joined him in watching the happenings. He notices Yusuke looking at him, and stares back at him. “Yusuke?”

Ah. Akira looks lovely. Yusuke would take looking at him than the garden anytime. When he first met him, he’s overwhelmed by his regal beauty, but it’s more mesmerizing to see the king he met back then so vulnerable and trusting towards him, in no time flat, he may add.

Akira squirms under his gaze, taking in a deep breath. “Are… Are you okay? You keep staring at me.”

There goes a good impression with the King. Staring at him blankly -- or even worse, with lovesick eyes -- is going to scare someone away, almost definitely. Which Akira doesn’t do, thankfully.

Yusuke blinks. “My apologies, Kurusu-sama, I was just thinking about how the rumors of how astounding you are, are true.”

Akira knows Yusuke can be blatant and straightforward at times, and he appreciates it. Though when he becomes… this honest, he doesn’t know how to react. He downs his coffee quickly, and lets out a breath, much to Yusuke’s confusion.

“I-” Akira starts, and shakes his head. “Nevermind.”

Akira doesn’t know how to really explain it. He doesn’t know if he wants to, anyway. It’s best to keep quiet, which is kind of a bad move, especially since he flattered him with such a comment. Great going, Akira.

Yusuke drinks plenty of his own cup. “I will still praise your coffee, Kurusu-sama; it’s remarkable. I’m honored to have some of yours.”

Akira smiles, satisfied.

 

* * *

 

 

Yusuke wakes up with a letter on his door. It has a red seal, with nothing else other than the mark of the Yongen kingdom and addressed to Yusuke personally. He flips it over several times to check just in case to find more information about it, but it must be important.

He breaks the seal, and opens the letter in it; inside discloses information about a summons to the training ground, requiring him to do so to stay in his position, for his training. No warning whatsoever, but other than his regular schedule of visiting the atelier and continuing work on his painting, speaking to Ryuji and Ann during dinners, and talking to Haru (also occasionally speaking with the King, but it’s not regular), it shouldn’t disrupt his schedule a whole lot.

Makoto greets him as he enters the barracks. “Yusuke,” she says with a nod. “Glad to have you here. I apologize for the short notice. We usually train the servants of the castle to learn how to fight, in case of intruders, and occasionally hold events testing feats of strength and mass practices to keep everyone in top shape. I think you’ll enjoy it.” She smiles, setting out a few weapons in front of him. There are swords, bows, strange looking artillery, maces, spears, and flails -- almost everything.

“Pick your poison,” she says, touching the weapons. “Any particular ones catch your eye?”

Yusuke looks at it thoughtfully. “I don’t really mind being at the front, but I also don’t mind being in the back as well. Just a sword and perhaps… any ranged weapon? It doesn’t matter which one I learn first; just who’s available for me.”

She takes the weapons away. “Then, maybe you can try some out. I'll entrust you to Shinya Oda -- he's quite skilled in ranged weapons.” She has a smirk which Yusuke doesn’t trust -- he trusts Makoto, and not the smile she’s wearing. Over the course of knowing her, she’s a diligent and thoughtful female who has also has a fiery and rebellious attitude no one expects from her. It nearly scared Yusuke.

“Shinya Oda?”

 

 

 

“You want me… to help this guy?” It was a boy, which Yusuke is easily older and taller to. These times, Yusuke is a few inches taller than the average height, but it’s clear the other boy is way shorter.

“Yeah, you’re pretty good at using ranged weapons, which he needs help with. Mind showing him a few tricks?” Makoto say, holding Yusuke’s shoulder with a firm grip.

“That sounds like too much work,” Shinya answers, slumping his shoulders.

“It’s an order,” Makoto says, placing her hands on her hip. Shinya sighs, and tilts his head towards the targets.

“If I have to,” he says, and Makoto smiles. Yusuke follows Shinya, trying not to get hit by any stray arrows or berserk warriors. He leads him to one of the targets which are free from anyone. He picks up a horizontal bow mounted on a stock.

“Let’s get this over with, alright?” Shinya says, and he points to the weapon. “Thing is about this bow, it isn’t as physically demanding, which means people like me can use it. So, these are called the bolts, make sure the white tip is facing down…”

Yusuke doesn’t have a steady hand, but he’s observant as Shinya demonstrates to him how to use the weapon; it hits the mark, as if without any effort, and he hands it to Yusuke. “Have a go at it.”

As Yusuke attempts to shoot, he is met with curses and criticism from Shinya.

“No, not like that!”

“Can you be a bit specific?”

“I am, you’re doing it all wrong-!”

 

 

 

“Let’s… take a break,” Shinya says, wiping his brow and sitting on the floor. Yusuke sits along with him, despite the possibility of another scowl, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Shinya talks again. “Hey… don’t you think Yongen is pretty cool?”

Yusuke tilts his head. “You don’t come from here?”

“I thought Yongen is cool, especially our king -- have you ever met him?” Shinya says with a certain gleam in his eye.

Yusuke scratches his head. “I’m the royal court painter, so I paint the King,” he responds, resisting the urge to tell him about being friends with him. Shinya smiles for the first time he met him.

“Oh, so you get to see him regularly? That’s pretty awesome,” he says. “I’ve heard lots of things about Yongen and its history about being righteous and just -- you know, fighting all the kingdoms which are under a terrible rule and putting the citizens into their wing. My home back at Hanae can never compare to here.”

Yongen surely is popular. With it’s eternal prosperity, compelling history, wiseness of its scholars, and just government, it’s a hit. People from all over the world come to Yongen in hopes of restarting their lives into a better one, in the most desirable place of all. Its fame went down as Akira’s parents are assassinated -- for a reason unknown, especially since everybody seemed to like the king and queen. No one foresaw their early deaths. They were very good people as well, but they are wise enough to prepare Akira even through its peace.

“I’m sure each kingdom has its own fairly interesting history to talk about,” Yusuke assures him. “Maybe you just don’t know it yet.”

Shinya looks around, and leans towards him. “Say, since you see the King regularly, is there a way for me to possibly meet with him as well…?”

Yusuke blinks once. Then twice. If Akira has time to talk to Yusuke, maybe he has more to spare for Shinya as well. Then maybe he would be more willing to teach Yusuke when he comes to train regularly -- he wouldn’t have to bear a negative outlook from his instructor. Though, it’s too much to ask from Akira, so maybe Yusuke can bring Shinya along with him during the regular sessions of painting his portrait, and that way, Akira won’t lose time.

“I think… that can be arranged,” Yusuke says, still contemplating his options. “He’s very busy, I’m sure you understand.”

Shinya sighs. “I know,” he murmurs. “Just one meeting -- and I’ll be happy.”

“It’s a deal,” Yusuke says with a nod.

 

* * *

 

 

Since Yusuke’s training is early in the morning, his free time for painting by half. So training first, free time for painting, dinner, and a session with the King. Due to his exhaustion, it’s harder to paint for him, so today, he only takes the quarter of his time for painting, and then stands up to go to the kitchen. He remembers he has to apologize to the girl from earlier, so after doing tiny touches to his painting, he quickly goes to the kitchen.

“Chief?” Yusuke says, and the middle-aged man looks up from his task.

“You came here to apologize to Futaba?” Sojiro asks, and Yusuke nods, eager. He nods towards the chef, who replaces his place without question, and he also nods to Yusuke to follow him.

“Like I said, Futaba isn’t very good with visitors, so be courteous when you get there,” Sojiro advises Yusuke as they go back to the familiar looking hallway. They stop at the same door without the nameplate. He knocks on the door. “Futaba? I have a visitor.”

The door opens slightly, spectacles peeking out. It looks towards Yusuke, and in haste the door shuts. Sojiro sighs, and waves it away. “Anyway, if you can get her to talk to you, then that will be good enough. I’m heading back.”

When Sojiro disappears into the distance, Yusuke himself knocks on the door. “I don’t have to meet with you face-to-face,” Yusuke says through the door. “I… just apologize for startling you.”

There’s silence. Maybe she wants to listen more. “I hear you don’t… get out much. I personally don’t have many friends, either, but it would be my pleasure to be able to speak to you.”

…  
…  
…

The door opens slightly again, the spectacles briefly visible, before it disappears, but the door is open. He thinks it’s the opportunity to open the door, so he opens it a little, and steps in when there is just enough space to slip in.

There is a dim light which is angled towards the floor, showing the gears and parts scattered on it. Her room is messy, and the books join the discarded components on the ground. One notable feature is the completed machinery which lay on her desk, imposing and intricate in every area. Yusuke pays it no mind, as the girl eyes him, wary.

“W… What’s your name?” Futaba asks, burying her head into her knees.

He bows. “Yusuke Kitagawa, royal court painter.”

Her head perk ups in approval. “So you draw stuff, right?”

Yusuke nods his head, and Futaba looks a little happier, for a reason he doesn’t know why. She grabs a few machines on her desk, and shows it to him. It’s not completely together, but it works. “I need your help, then. I need to learn how to design.”

“Design?” Yusuke repeats. He’s an artist, so she might have gotten the idea he knows how to design machinery -- which he doesn’t. Maybe his experience might be of a little use, though. Futaba nods her head, eager, and puts her work down.

“Yeah, and in return, with my experience with apparatus, I’ll do a favor for you,” she offers. Well, Yusuke doesn’t really need anything as of late, though her skill is useful for making things more efficient in the castle. He’s a painter, so he can’t do that for the castle, but maybe in a future date, the, offer will become handy. For now, he shakes his head.

“I don’t have anything for you right now… but I’ll help you with making a plan,” Yusuke answers. “I’ll need my equipment though.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ryuji and Ann listen to Yusuke’s accounts of his morning, Ann nodding towards his training and Ryuji surprised to have an inhabitant in the castle who merely stays there, not serve.

“Are you going to to do the Velvet test, Yusuke?” Ann asks, poking at her food.

“What’s the Velvet test?” Yusuke says, never hearing about the word. Perhaps once or twice, but it’s surely never been relevant for him to know. Well, now it is.

“The Velvet test is when you see if you have a Persona or not -- it was intimidating for me; basically, you go into the Metaverse, travel into a dungeon of your fears and worst enemies, and see if it brings out a passion within you. So it was tough for everyone,” she explains, and she nudges Ryuji. “Ryuji and I have personas -- our other selves.”

“Only expected of the King’s Knight,” Yusuke says.

“W-Well, yeah, pretty impressive, huh?” Ryuji says with a nod, sheepish.

“Okay tough guy,” Ann says, rolling her eyes, but then turning back to Yusuke. “You’ll be fine, Yusuke; they aren’t going to let you get stuck in there forever if you don’t have one. You’re going to have to solo it, but they won’t leave you unwatched.”

That’s reassuring, especially since Yusuke isn’t the strong sort; else, he would have not picked up a brush. He wonders what his persona would look like -- that is, if he even has one. Well, as long as he doesn’t get to rot out there, it puts Yusuke at more ease. Though, still -- facing your fears? It’s still going to be difficult.

Which reminds him -- what does he fear? What oppresses him the most? He really doesn’t have a clue, since his only goal is to keep painting -- his passion -- beautiful things. Things like the flowers at the garden. The castle interiors. The friendship he has with his newfound friends. Akira.

Well, of course, Akira. There’s no way he can exclude the king.

“When do we take the Velvet test?” Yusuke asks Ann, who was chewing on her food as Yusuke was contemplating. She gulps, and she shrugs her shoulders.

“I guess it depends -- whenever you’re ready, I guess,” she says.

Ryuji looks thoughtful. “Got it right after I got the hang of using swords. What about you, Ann?”

“If I have to fight in reality, I guess I have to use a sword, but I’m not really good at it. I use whips in the Metaverse, though. After a decent amount of time training is when I got to do the Velvet test,” Ann answers with a shrug.

Which means he’ll have plenty of time to gain some proficiency in combat. That’ll be reassuring. Before Ryuji goes on and on about his experiences in the Velvet Test, Ann is hit with a revelation.

“Oh! The Grand Festival!” Ann exclaims, unhanding her fork which clatters onto her plate. “It's coming soon, isn't it?”

“The Grand Festival?” Yusuke asks, and Ryuni Pat's him on the shoulders.

“Right, you're from Ichiryusai. Over here, we host this huuuge event where we celebrate the founding of the kingdom or something -- we get to eat lots of meat and hey, maybe we might find us some girls!” He slings his arm over Yusuke, who merely sighs at his mindset. Of course at celebrations like these, Ryuji is going to want to find girls and eat food. That's just Ryuji's style.

“Yeah, but there's this thing where the King goes out to town as a commoner -- the tradition in Yongen is he goes out to town as a commoner, and if he finds someone he's interested in, they become his betrothed. Interesting, isn't it?” Ann says. “I'm not really one for romantics, but I'm definitely going to eat lots of sweets.”

Yusuke’s heart nearly stops when he hears about Yongen’s tradition. True, he knows he’ll never have the King, but hearing that piece of information makes him lose his appetite. Well, besides that, the tradition in itself is unorthodox; but then again, so is Yongen. Many rulers would rather be married off to other royalty, but Yongen has always been a kingdom where social class mattered less than its peers and more about righteousness and the quality of their rulers, thus it’s always been prosperous.

“But the King doesn’t want to marry, doesn’t he?” Ryuji says.

Oh. No one will have him, but no one can have him. It’s a selfish thought, as always, and Yusuke kicks himself for that. Whether the King is “available” or he isn’t is not Yusuke’s business. Stick to painting, Yusuke. Stick to painting.

“Never has his eyes on someone, I doubt he will,” and then Ann laughs. “Well, there is one more event if that fails.” She taps her head. “The Masquerade.”

Well, that’s more common. It’s not Yongen-exclusive, they even have it at Ichiryusai, but having both certainly secures more candidates for Akira. Yusuke guesses it’s just a unwritten rule to have masquerades in every kingdom, anyway.

 **Ryuji:** I’m going to wear a skull mask. Dark and dangerous -- women love that, don’t they?  
**Ann:** …  
**Yusuke:** …  
**Ryuji** : Oh, come on, you guys never like my ideas.  
**Ann** : Fine. Yes, that’s an okay idea.  
**Yusuke:** Y… You can certainly attract a number of men out there.  
**Ryuji:** Men?!

 

* * *

 

 

Haru laughs her eyes out at Yusuke’s abbreviated accounts, in addition to his conversation with Ryuji and Ann.

“Oh, right, the Velvet Test. It’s only your first day, so you’ll have time,” Haru says, wiping her brow and sitting down the gazebo with Yusuke. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to necessarily beat the enemies -- you just have to find out if you have a persona or not. And if you get exhausted, that’ll be the end of the test.”

Yusuke nods, and she continues. “Oh, and the Grand Festival -- romantic, isn’t it? Cheesy too. Many of the flowers are going to be on display for the nobles to admire, though, so I’m happy they get to see the beauty of Yongen.”

Yusuke has never attended a festival; it’s lively and exciting, and will make a perfect subject for an upcoming art piece of his when he finishes his painting for the garden. The atmosphere will be dreamy as well. This will be the first time he’s going to attend a festival, so it’s refreshing. Yongen seems to be much more interesting than other kingdoms as well -- nowhere better to experience a first time than in Yongen.

“Yongen is a very beautiful place, I must admit,” Yusuke agrees with her. “I’m excited to be able to have the opportunity to attend such a festival. I never been to any, but people are always looking forward to it.”

“You’ll love it!” Haru enthuses, squeezing his arm. “Hey, want to help me make some flowers, Kitagawa-san? You’re an artist, and I’m a gardener -- we can probably make some lovely arrangements.”

Yusuke’s interest piques. “That’s a wonderful idea,” he murmurs. Haru smiles, pleased, and then leads him to her spacious shed, tools hanging on the walls and bags of soil are placed neatly on the side. There is a table full of flowers and a handful of equipment. A colorful palette greets him, and he’s immediately overcome with temptation to arrange them into something great.

“Here, I want to partner the acacia with this daffodil...”

Overall, Yusuke learns a lot more about flowers than an average person should.

 

* * *

 

 

“The deed has been done your Highness,” Akechi says, bowing to his father, and looking up. “We are allies with Yongen as of now. We can dispatch our people.”

His father shifts on his seat, looking thoughtful. “Well, the Grand Festival is coming soon, isn’t it?” he wonders aloud, to which Akechi nods to. “That’ll make things… much easier than expected. Then, send them tomorrow -- and we wait.”

“We wait,” Akechi repeats, and his father nods.

“We will not fail,” Shido says.

Akechi is confident it will; for most of his life, he has been following the will of his wicked father, unbending and obedient. He knows he’s a mere pawn in the eyes of his father, but he doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter. While he even follows his father through ridiculous plans, this isn’t one of them. It’s a grand scheme which is foolproof as long as the King doesn’t know what they’re up to, or their motives. Plus, there’s always a backup plan.

Shido Masayoshi -- the King of Touqio. Comes off as charismatic and honest, a powerful and assertive leader. The population is gullible enough to feed on his lies, which Akechi doesn’t do anything about, watching them blindly follow him. He’s, in truth, a more malicious person than Touqio’s people can ever imagine. He’ll do anything to stay in power -- and more importantly, gain even more power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you'll never see it coming


	7. If I could ever talk to him,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto the Mom, fanboying Shinya, and a time skip FT. Iwai, plus Futaba at work, rendezvous, lethargy, prejudice, and letter exchanging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my dudes! Happy 4th of July to my American fam even-though-I-really-am-not!
> 
> Decided to try out the not-daily-updates, and I feel kind of great. Not stressed at all! At least, not yet. I just finished making my outline since of course, making it up as I go might be a -very- bad idea, and praying it isn't cheesy. I want to make a light-hearted fanfiction, but the way it's going, it may or may not. But it won't be a depression-fest, just a tad bit heavier, except not heavy at all, you know?
> 
> So, yeah, over the course of three days, wrote the outline for the entire story on the first day, writing on the second and third. So let's say 2-4 day updates for 5k chapters, yeah? 
> 
> Judging from my outline, my story won't be monstrously huge, but maybe I'm not judging it accurately since the outline _does not_ include any of the platonic events there, only shukita ones, and God knows they take up at least 1/4 of my chapter only. Or more. It depends. I don't think it'll span 300k words in total like most wildly successful fanfics... but give or take a few thousands of 100k, perhaps? I'm hoping to reach at least 20 chapters and 5k each chapter from here on out, so maybe 85k!
> 
> -cough- Also got lazy editing. Point out mistakes if you see them.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the shukita moment here. Really cheesy. I might've cringed. If you ask me, I personally want to revise a lot of things, but that's for later, mhm? Enjoy though!

The kingdom is excited.

Yongen is in high spirits as it prepares for the Grand Festival; it's only a few weeks away, so preparations are being made, such as decorations and event setups. Gold and red banners, as well as unlit lanterns with either of those colors, fill the town in a lively manner. Stages and places are being set up for the Grand Festival and many are doing something special for it. Trees and flowers which have been growing all year are picked up and placed into the town for decorations. Even nobles from all over the world are coming for the occasion.

And Akira can’t take a break off. Especially during the festival.

The festival, Akira considers, is a potential massacre waiting to happen. Anyone can come to the Grand Festival with a huge crowd as their advantage, take any noble as hostage, or use something that’ll wipe out people in an instant. He wants the soldiers to take a break, but they can’t when such a risk poses. His proposal for them is to take turns so they can enjoy the festival while keeping the kingdom protected.

Akira also has to be cautious around this time; plus, he has to consider what to entertain the royalty with this year. Last year was a joust, which everyone got a kick out of since all the top knights faced off each other, and bets were made. The other year was a potluck where everyone from different kingdoms and backgrounds brought their own food and everyone could get a taste of different cultures.

But for now, he’s going to think about it for another day; in front of him is Makoto Nijima, in charge of the local troops in the castle. She takes after Sae Nijima, her sister, who is in charge of Yongen’s troops as a whole. Due to Sae’s increasing workload, Makoto stands in for her place to discuss strategies with the king to protect the kingdom.

“I think it’s best to divide the knights into groups, and they take turns, so they will enjoy the festival,” Akira suggests, but Makoto frowns.

“Only a fraction of the soldiers we have on such a big occasion? We’d be as good as vulnerable,” Makoto says.

Akira looks thoughtful. “Well, they’re part of Yongen, and they deserve a break. I think we should go through with it. If we’re under attack, then we still have them right where we want them. They can bring weapons with them.”

Makoto nods. “Understand. It’ll be a fraction of our power, which can cost us all -- but you’re the King. I’ll trust you judgement.”

Akira nods, and Makoto writes down on her notes, nods to the King, and files away with the knowledge.

With that, Akira sits back on his throne with a heavy sigh. Ryuji shrugs behind him. It’s exhausting to run a kingdom. Everyone’s lives hang on his shoulders, especially on this event where everyone is relaxed. It grants Yongen vulnerability. Even though it’s stressful, at least the morale of his kingdom is high. A happy population means an efficient workforce.

He could take a break from thinking about the kingdom. Akira thinks about Yusuke; something about his cool composure and demeanor makes Akira relax, which he appreciates. Many people are afraid to talk to him, and Yusuke isn’t excluded, but he’s honest with him in the very least. Anyone would feel restricted speaking to Akira, but even if Yusuke is slightly intimidated by him, he still says whatever he wants. He can feel at ease with him. That’s rare and unusual, but helpful, because of the everyday stress Akira has to face. Sometimes he realizes his actions break social rules and are considered uncommon and he’s reckless, but Yusuke is a friend -- plus, Yongen has quite a streak for breaking the norm.

Ah. Maybe he should surprise him today too. Well, today, he has an appointment with him, so he’ll get to see him anyway. He feels excited whenever he does come over, and or when he sees his face; an indescribable feeling, but he’s glad he has that feeling.

 

* * *

 

 

“Your Highness, this is my instructor, Shinya Oda,” Yusuke says, introducing the young boy to Akira. His eyes widen as he looks at the rough-looking character smile at him with glassy eyes.

“Whoa! You’re the king!” Shinya exclaims, taking a step forward. “Of Yongen! You’re incredible!”

Well, flattery has already arrived, it seems. Akira curls his hair. “What brings him here today?”

“He always wanted to see you, I apologize if it brings you any trouble,” Yusuke says, and he sets up his station near his throne. “Perhaps he can keep you company while I paint you. It’s going to be long, so I assume he will be of use to you to cure your boredom.”

Akira smiles to the boy, who then exclaims, “I swear I won’t be in your way! I’ll help you however I can.” He ruffles his hair, much to the heart attack of Shinya, and goes to pose for Yusuke.

 

Shinya continues to press Akira on and on about the affairs of the kingdom while he’s captured on canvas. It’s apparent Shinya is an enthusiast for Yongen, but clear he’s not born in it. He has a distinct feel of Hanae, a kingdom which is the most neutral about Yongen out of all the others; it’s a mundane kingdom, Akira will admit, but it’s well above average. During the potluck year, it sent a plethora of seafood in a quality unknown to commoners; Akira took some home to eat with him when the festival came to a close.

As Shinya rambles about Yongen, Akira continues to watch Yusuke; such a calm face, full of elegance unparalleled. He wonders if it’s just because he’s a painter he can move like the wind, and it sounds cheesy, but there’s nothing else to describe it.

Even Shinya takes notice of his staring at Yusuke, and clams up, looking between them with squinted eyes. Suspicious

As Yusuke bids goodbye to Akira, Shinya pulls him aside and whispers, “hey, what’s up between the King and you?” He looks around, shifty, and Yusuke blinks once.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answers, and Shinya looks straight at him.

“I think the King likes you -- he’s been staring at you the whole time you were painting him… that, or maybe I’m just boring,” and Shinya looks slightly embarrassed, but he shakes his head off the thoughts. “N-Never mind that. Might be both. But he was definitely looking at you.”

Yusuke’s mind draws a blank. “I think you misunderstand him,” he says, giving him a look.

Shinya shrugs. “Whatever. He still was.”

Yusuke dwells on his words longer than he should have. It’s impossible for the King to look at him with feelings. What part would him like of him, anyway? What has he done for Akira? Accept his coffee? Paint for him which is solely his job? Speak to him? Anyone can do that. Well, maybe not the painting part, but mostly.

 

* * *

 

 

Time has passed by since then.

Yusuke has massively improved in archery, winning Shinya’s approval. While he isn’t the best yet, he’s certainly well above average. This means Yusuke will have to move on to using melee attacks.

“I guess we’ll see each other later, huh?” Shinya says, though unlike other times, his tone is soft. “Good luck on the Velvet test.”

Yusuke smiles, gentle. “Thank you for teaching me.”

 

 

“This is your new trainer -- Iwai Munehisa,” Makoto says, introducing him to a rough-looking man; he’s older than Yusuke, gruff with sideburns, a faint stubble, and grey hair. He wears earrings and strangely enough, a gecko as a tattoo on his neck.

In short: intimidating.

“I’ll be in your care,” Yusuke says, closing his hand to make a fist and taking a deep breath. The man nods at him. Makoto glances between them, and takes her departure, but before she did, she squeezed Yusuke and gave him a look.

“He might be intimidating -- he’s a mercenary after all,” Makoto says, but shakes her head. “But you’ll be fine. He’s a good guy. All right?”

Yusuke nods, stiff, and she pats him once before leaving.

Iwai leads him towards a few straw dummies, targets on their chests. He picks up the sword, still silent, and hands one of them to Yusuke. Yusuke looks at it, palming it between his hands, while the mercenary takes a firm grip of his sword and crouches into a stance.

“You’ll want to pay attention, or you might end up killing yourself,” Iwai tells Yusuke, who nods, and taking it as a cue, he slices the through the air, the blade singing. Yusuke takes in his footing, the way he holds his sword, keeping it away from his face, the effects of crying out to improve the strength put into the sword.

After that, Yusuke tries it out himself; for some reason, it’s familiar as greeting an old friend on his hands as he tries it out, trying to replicate the way Iwai handles his own weapon. He’s not on the level of Iwai, but he’ll get there with enough effort.

Yusuke doesn’t have much of an opportunity to speak to him afterwards; even if he reaches out to him or starts the conversation, he’ll end it with a one-liner. Great. Another person he’ll have to appease next to Shinya to actually be able to get along. He’ll have to cope.

 

* * *

 

 

Yusuke meets with Futaba, as per his regular schedule, and continues to tutor her; she’s a fast learner, able to apply her newfound knowledge on paper quickly, much to Yusuke’s proudness. Soon enough, she’s well off with designing and her machines look increasingly aesthetically pleasing. Maybe one day, she'll make a beautiful and polished machine, but efficient just the same.

Yusuke lets Futaba go on with her machines as he thinks about how long since he last met with the King. With the near arrival of the Grand Festival, his relationship with him has become strained and impossible. He barely had a session with him, let alone seen his face.

Yusuke will admit he feels lonely, even with his friends; he’s been fine before, but he didn’t have to wait long to see him again. Now, days seem monotonous, without something exciting happening, like back at home when he was a hermit. Perhaps the festival will give him something to look forward to again, but what he looks forward to the most is possibly seeing Akira again.

“Yusuke!”

Yusuke blinks once to find Futaba’s face near his face, brows curved into a frown. She pulls away and crosses her arms, tilting her head. “You look like you were thinking of something. And… you looked kind of melancholy. Did something happen?”

Yusuke only gives her a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t convince her.  “I’m fine,” Yusuke says, shaking his head. “I just… no, it’s nothing.”

Futaba huffs, turning her head away. “You don’t trust me enough to confide in me?” she says.

Yusuke shakes his head again, putting his hands up. “It’s not like that. I just… can’t get in touch with a certain someone,” Yusuke answers with a sigh. “But it’s no big deal.”

She rubs her chin, looking up towards the right. Her eyes widen, and look back at Yusuke. “Don’t tell me -- is it the King you want to meet?”

Yusuke springs back, but then his shoulders slump. “Is it so obvious?” he murmurs.

Futaba narrows her eyes, a half smile forming on her face at a tortuous pace. “Weelll, you always talk about him so, _so_ wondrously when the topic _happens_ to come up. It’s only natural it seems you like him.”

So yes, it was obvious. Yusuke buries his head in his knees, a melancholy aura forming around him. “S… So it was that obvious… he might already know… aha…”

Futaba sighs, and hits Yusuke’s head, prompting a yelp from him. “Quit your wallowing! I told you I’d do you a favor, correct?”

Yusuke looks up to Futaba who has a smile rivaling Akira’s and a clenched fist in front of her face. He nods, and she cackles to herself. Futaba goes on to rummage through her junk (albeit a lot of them), and pulls out a small mechanical bird. She presses a button and it hums into awakening, moving and flapping its wings and making mechanical tweeting.

“You just need to attach a letter asking Akira to meet with you, simple,” Futaba says, letting the bird fly from her hand to Yusuke’s head as she puts her hands on her hips. Futaba smiles as she lifts her chin. “Aaand-- you’re welcome.”

The bird pecks at Yusuke’s hair, and he picks it up and holds it in his hands. It tilts its head as it looks at him, and Yusuke only chuckles. He then looks up at Futaba. “Thank you… but don’t you think I’m inconveniencing the King?”

She scoffs, waving the thought away. “Oh, he can decide whether he wants to come or not! Stop being a coward and just send him the letter already!” Futaba exclaims, throwing him a piece of paper.

“Right…”

 

* * *

 

 

Yusuke’s letter looks like the following.

 

_Your Highness,_

_It would make me ecstatic if you could join me in the gardens today at night. The flowers still look magnificent, especially under the starry night sky. I haven’t seen you in a while, so I’d like to speak to you again. If it inconveniences you, I’ll be fine. I hope you’ll consider it._

_Yusuke_

 

Yusuke almost considered not giving it to the King after all, but with enough encouragement from Futaba, he was able to send it. It flew away as they tell the bird the destination (“Don’t worry! It’ll know where to go!”), and Yusuke can only cross his fingers as the day wastes away.

For now, he sits with Ann and Ryuji who talk among each other; Yusuke only sits back and listens to the conversation about their excitement for the festival. From what he gathers, the festival spans over seven days; the first day is when a huge event is held, which varies year to year. The fourth day is a huge feast, and the seventh day is the masquerade. He has yet to learn the other dates.

 

 **Ryuji:** Hey, now I can score ladies without being scorned for my looks!

  
**Ann:** Good luck...

 **Yusuke:** Make sure to use protection.

~~(Note: there wasn’t condoms in the medieval ages. I’m just being weird.)~~

 

When the time arrives, he hurries towards the gardens; it’s also decorated with banners and lanterns. It’s dim but atmospheric with the stars above, and he sits back on the gazebo, taking a deep breath. Yusuke wonders if Akira will make it, or ignore the letter altogether, and while it’ll hurt if he doesn’t come -- Yusuke will understand. Well, _try_ to understand. He can just enjoy stargazing. It's always been a relaxing activity for him, even as a hermit.

“Sorry, did you wait long?”

Surely enough, it’s the black attire of the King, and Akira gives him a smile that could light the night itself, no lantern needed. He sits next to Yusuke, coffee in hand. “I would’ve arrived earlier, but I thought I’d make something for the occasion,” Akira says, rubbing his neck. The slight gesture tugs at Yusuke for some reason.

“T-Thank you,” Yusuke says, looking away with a slight tint on his cheeks. He rubs his arm. “ I apologize for possibly disturbing your work, Kurusu-sama. I know you’re busy.”

Akira shakes in laughter, nearly spilling his coffee. “I’m glad you did,” Akira answers. “I haven’t really talked to anyone since I’m overloaded on work, so I’m happy to be disrupted. The stars are pretty today, anyhow.”

Yusuke looks up. “A swath of vibrant stars suspended in a void of cold darkness… pure beauty ruled by the laws of space!” he exclaims. “It’s indeed a marvelous sight many take for granted. I make it a duty to myself to admire it whenever I have the chance.”

Akira smiles at that, but the conversation dies down to an awkward silence. Yusuke is stuck wondering what else to say, and almost regrets inviting him. Arghh, why did Futaba have to be so persistent?

Not knowing what else to say, he might as well express a few feelings. “Kurusu-sama, I just… want to say thank you -- for being stupendously kind to me,” Yusuke admits, his words almost caught in his throat trying to recollect himself.  He takes a deep breath as he closes his eyes. “I didn't do anything for you, but you've treated me with kindness -- I don't know what I did to deserve it, but I sincerely appreciate it. I'm glad to be even able to sit with you here and tell you this… many people wouldn't have to opportunity. Thank you, Kurusu-sama.”

As Yusuke speaks these words, Akira starts noticing the way Yusuke looks; the way his hair falls on his face, the slight shading of his cheek, his long eyelashes and glassy eyes. His genuine smile visible in the lantern light struck chords deep within him.

Akira looks away, nearly embarrassed, but his pride would be wounded if he was to fluster. He fills his lungs with air and look at the glittery stars above him. “... Yusuke. I think you're incredible,” Akira confesses. He plays with his fingers in his hand. “The reason why I don't have a lot close to me is because people are afraid of me.  I'm the King to them. I'm only the King to them. I'm the King called Akira Kurusu, not Akira Kurusu who is the king. You also see me as the king, but you speak to me about things people who are… friends would talk about. Not a king and those below him. But as a peer -- human to human. Not like I'm some divine entity. You are eccentric and honest, and I came to love that part of you -- I'm indebted to you. Thank you as well, Yusuke.”

Yusuke hesitates at the word “love” but he tries his best not to think about it. Akira’s here _thanking_ him. His king. His infatuation. A canvas, an image he wants to paint and keep forever. A sight any painter will want to capture. Unable to say anything more at that moment or he might somehow break down, he only smiles even bigger.

Akira gulps as he looks at Yusuke’s face, and for a reason he doesn’t know, something within him urges to do something. He doesn’t know what he wants to do, but he has to do something. He takes a shaky breath and says, “Yusuke -- may I do something I might regret?”

Yusuke tilts his head to the side, and nods.  “You’re the King… so do as you will.”

Akira takes a firm grip of Yusuke’s shoulders, taking him by surprise, and then pulling him closer into him -- into a hug. An intimate one a king and someone of a different class can’t imagine. Warm and affectionate. Close and tight. Akira can almost feel the rapid heartbeat of the person beneath him, which somehow makes Akira feel a little happier.

“K-Kurusu-sama?” Yusuke manages to utter from under Akira after finally releasing his pent-up breath. He has the urge to indulge himself in the embrace, but he has a duty for his king as well. “What are you-?”

“I just-” Akira shakes his head, and tightens. “Let’s stay like this for a little longer.”

Yusuke then takes away his grip on Akira’s back, and instead lets him hold for a little while longer, still trying to process everything that’s happening and why Akira’s doing this. Finally, he pulls away.

“I’m sorry,” Akira says, rubbing his neck. “I just -- well, I-I haven’t done that for anyone in a while. So I had an urge."

Yusuke takes a deep breath. No wonder. All right, nothing special. Don’t overthink it. He nods. “Kurusu-sama, you must be sleepy. I think we should part ways for now.”

Akira blinks, and then looks down and away, a slight smile apparent on his face. “Oh right - well, have a good night Yusuke.”

Akira almost forgot it’s night, and Yusuke needs to get going. He’s probably going to get a lecture from Ann for staying out at night instead of doing his work, but ditching work for Yusuke? Absolutely. It was worth it.

“Good night to you too, Kurusu-sama.”

Akira begins to walk away from Yusuke after making promises to send each other mail, somehow feeling empty even when such events unfolded. Something within him is happening, but he doesn’t know what. What is this, late puberty for Akira or something? Something unsettles him, and he doesn’t know what, which is only cured by seeing Yusuke’s face.

He only had a few hours of sleep that night.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, pay attention!”

Yusuke blinks twice, and tries to hit again with his sword, but misses by a good distance. Iwai sighs, pinching his nose, and Yusuke takes a breath for himself as well. Staying out late at night certainly has some repercussions for the painter. He usually stayed up late back at home, but ever since he came to the castle, he’s been sleeping regularly at a normal time.

“What’s with you today?” Iwai asks, looking at Yusuke’s eyes and seeing the tiredness stirring within it. He sighs. “You should’ve gotten more sleep. Do you always stay up late?”

“Just yesterday,” Yusuke answers, but he retakes a firm grip on his sword. “I’ll try to make up for my performance today.”

Iwai shakes his head. “No need for that today. Make it up tomorrow. You’re tired. So finish up today.”

 

 

Ryuji shakes Akira from behind, who nearly slammed his head on his study for falling asleep. Akira shakes his head off the tiredness, and thanking Ryuji, he tries to focus on his work, but his vision is blurry. Since he stayed up longer than Yusuke, his lethargy is bound to get to him.

“Hey, you don’t look too well today, don’t you think you should take a rest?” Ryuji suggests, scratching his head, but Akira shakes his head.

“No… I should… finish this,” Akira says, rubbing his eyes and sighing.

“I really think--” Ryuji looks away. “All right. But don’t blame me if you pass out.” For a moment, Ryuji disappears, and Akira pays it no heed until he comes back with a cup of cold water. He mutters a thank you to his knight, and continues work still sleepy, but a bit more invigorated.

 

* * *

 

 

Yusuke nearly messes up his painting with a stray mark as he tries to steady his hand. The atelier, even after all this time, is keeping an eye on Yusuke; rumor goes around Yusuke is as arrogant and rude, which he doesn’t know where that comes from. He can admit the way he speaks and talks might be eccentric, but he doesn’t know if it’s why such a rumor would surround him for that.

More and more of his peers are friendlier with him, seeing as he just minds his own business and avoids the rumors. Yusuke is thankful for those kinds of people. Other than all of his other friends, he also got to meet different people around the castle; while wandering the halls of Yongen one day, he stumbles upon a religious area for some of the residents in the castle, in which he finds a girl trying to play by herself in a game. She introduced herself as Hifumi Togo, and whilst Yusuke only meets her for brief moments, she’s certainly an interesting character.

He thought perhaps people are going to warm up to him, but he thought wrong.

Yusuke packs up his supplies for today, and is about to exit the atelier when someone crashes into him, making him fall backwards. He groans in pain from the landing, but when he rises, he sees the red paint had spilled onto him.

The person who bumped into him apologized to him, but the people around him seem to snicker and glare at him. He can only forgive the other party, but he has to dry off -- unfortunately, he would leave paint footprints where he goes, and his clothes would be irrecoverable.

He goes out when he spots Ann running errands, who also freezes seeing Yusuke’s ruined clothing. She gasps, and hurries towards him. “Yusuke! What happened to you?”

“Someone spilled painting on me,” Yusuke answers, looking down to see he’s still drenched in red paint. “Would you mind helping me?”

She nods rapidly, and helps him along the hallway to get a fresh change of clothes. He gets dressed, and Ann looks at him with a frown. “They ought to be more careful there.”

Yusuke doesn’t want to mention it might possibly deliberate, seeing all the scornful clandestine laughs and glares directed towards him when it all came crashing down on himself. He knew they didn’t like him very much, but he doesn’t know how they would potentially _hate_ him. Could he have done something? What could he possibly do to make them loathe him?

“Yes, it’s just an accident,” Yusuke responds and gives Ann a smile. “Thank you for helping me, Ann.”

She returns the smile, squeezing his arm. “No problem!”

Yusuke thinks Ann is a kind and beautiful girl -- who wouldn’t? He’d probably like her in a different way if he didn’t come to like the king. He thanks her once again, before they separate ways, and goes to Futaba to give him his accounts of last night.

 

* * *

 

 

As expected, Futaba is up and down from hearing what happened, and urges Yusuke lightly to keep fighting -- that is, yelling in his ear and shaking him with feverish eyes.

Since Futaba, however, is a fanatical supporter for a potential relationship between Akira and him, he wants a third perspective from another trusted friend who can give him an unbiased insight -- Haru.

As Haru hums while watering the flowers, Yusuke confides in her as well about his story, which leaves her wide eyed.

“I'm happy for you, Yusuke, I really am,” Haru says, giving him a smile. “But be careful, all right? You're going to endanger yourself if you want to pursue any further.”

“Endanger?” Yusuke asks, tilting his head towards Haru. She nods, silent, with a frown.

“Some people are not going to like you very much -- or some people don't like the king. In either instance, they're going to be out for you,” Haru explains, touching her cheek. She shakes her head. “But that doesn't matter, won't it? As long as you like him, Yusuke.”

He thinks back to what happened back in the atelier -- the paint, the looks, the hassle. Having to lose his clothes and cause more problems for the staff is troublesome. Yusuke wouldn't mind if he was the only one suffering, but those around him would be right along with him, Akira especially. It's not guaranteed Akira likes him, but if he does for some miraculous reason… Yusuke still wouldn't take it if he just becomes a burden to him.

That night, he receives a mail from Akira through Futaba’s mechanical bird.

_Yusuke,_

_I'm overloaded with work over here. It's like it will never end… I probably won't catch a break during the festival. If I could, that would be miraculous._

Yusuke chuckles a little. He feels pity for Akira, but he can't help but find it amusing to see him in such a state. He reads on,

_How is it over there? Anyone giving you a hard time? I'll send them straight into the dungeons. How's your painting of the garden? Coming along well? What's happening?_

It's flattering he wants to know about Yusuke's life. Though he hesitated on the second sentence. He shouldn't tell Akira about what happened today.

_Hey, let's meet up again one day when I finally get some rest. I couldn't catch any sleep yesterday, so I was pretty inefficient today, haha. ^^_

Oh. He really did inconvenience Akira. Now he can't work at all today. Well, neither can Yusuke, but the king has more duties to uphold. He nearly bangs his head on the wall. But he keeps on reading.

_Hey, I miss talking to people like we did yesterday._

Yusuke then looks down on the last line.

_Maybe I just miss you._

Yeah, you know what, Yusuke _is_ going to bang his head on the wall for being so affected by that one sentence. Exactly how many people gets this from their king? How cheesy is all this?!

He shakes off his thoughts, and begins to write his own letter to respond to his. He has to keep their promise to write to each other, and there's only one bird to go around. They're going to have to take turns.

Yusuke doesn't know what to write, so he just writes hi experiences for the day and glosses over details concerning Akira or the paint incident, so it was mostly about the Velvet test and his training in the mornings. He makes sure to be considerate and write down some questions regarding Akira's life, and then closes it off talking about his painting and the like. He attaches it to the bird and let it fly away.

 

 

In the distance, a bush rustles.

Oh, there's a person in it.

They watch the bird fly out of Yusuke's chamber, which they saw just enter from Akira's. How suspicious. Are they sending letters to each other? That would be interesting.

And an opportunity.

The smirk as they watch it fly in the direction of his expectations. “I see…” it muses. It looks around, guards overflowing the castle. Shit. It's godsend they were able to get in by some luck, but getting out without notice and starting a war? Yeah, that was a toughie. The king of Yongen is no joke. But with this…

“We might just have a chance with this information.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hug me2 pleaseee
> 
> Also, I just want to thank you guys a lot. I get word some people criticize work very harshly, but even though my fanfiction is not the greatest, you guys give me positive feedback. I appreciate you guys.


	8. That surely would be-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ruined canvas, ignoring, a frustrated Akira, training with your host Iwai Munehisa, Futaba best wingwoman, and wait -- there's more. The Talk about the birds and the bees by Ryuji and Ann, running late for a meeting, sleeping, and a cynical Touqio spy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> Yes, I've gotten quite lazy. I was just a little less motivated because I dislike cliches, and well, they're apparent in my story. Maybe too much Korean drama did it to me, okay?! Well, anyway. Expect spontaneous updates.
> 
> Yes, this chapter is _another_ foreplay, and not for anything kinky. Setting up the Velvet Test, the Grand Festival, Akira's and Yusuke's relationship, and conflict still. Nothing _too_ juicy, which I hope to deliver after like, what, two, three chapters of foreplay and setting up. 
> 
> This are some unnaturally angsty moments in this chapter. Now, if you ask me, I don't like a heavy atmosphere, nor too much angst. I like fluff. That fluff will happen in the Festival, trust me. There are a few things they'll have to do to get to that point, though, so expect angst in this chapter. There is a fluffy moment at the end, though. Not ready to pass the spice until... maybe... the Festival. Heh.
> 
> Sorry if you expected dancing or something. That happens _later_. For now, enjoy some haters on this chapter and Yusuke feeling down. Plus, Ann and Ryuji supporting him personally for once! Where did Haru go?
> 
> Man, I keep forgetting to add Mishima... forgive me...
> 
> And yes, this is a 4.7k word chapter. Not a 5k. We don't need to be nitpicky right now.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy -- and report errors to me. I want to know what you think!

Yusuke is frightened.

Not _ just  _ because of the instigators that evening, but because of the threats that came with it. It happened like this:

Yusuke was still being mindful about his business, painting in silence as he admired his painting. The painting had been terrific so far, and he couldn't want to show it to Haru. However, as he went out to grab a few more supplies, he didn't know what would happen next. Frankly, he couldn't. It was just the highest level of disgrace for a fellow artist to do that. 

He returned to a ruined painting, and he dropped his art supplies as he ran to it. 

The canvas was dripping with red paint, splattered all over the painting as if blood spilled on it. His painting was stained, and it was simply irrecoverable. All that effort, to be ruined by an instigator of sorts.

It devastated Yusuke almost utterly. 

Before he addressed all the other artists and completely processed his emotions, they addressed  _ him.  _

“You really think your painting is worth  _ anything?”  _ One of them scoffed, making Yusuke flinch and step back. “Pathetic. You call yourself the royal court painter.”

“Madam, please-”

“You even dare to get  _ close  _ to him, you're despicable!” She shot at Yusuke. “Don't think your little meetings have gone  _ unnoticed _ . You're here to seduce the king, are you?”

It struck Yusuke hard. What she said had some truth to it, and that got to him. Terribly. He  _ did  _ have the nerve to strive for a better relationship with the King. Never with the intention to “seduce” him solely, but did it really seem that way? 

He wanted to denounce her for ruining the painting he took so long and worked so hard on to do, but her words rendered him speechless. She only grinned in triumph, and strutted away.

He only returned to his seat, head bowed down as the others continued to stare at him. He doesn’t want to look at his work and effort splattered in dripping paint. Yet even when he looks down from his canvas and away from the others, he can still see the paint on the ground.

Why? Why? 

 

* * *

 

For a few days, he’s been exchanging letters with Akira, talking about their personal lives and then asking questions that aren’t too nosy. Akira’s work has been gradually lessening over the course of time, much to his relief.

However, he couldn't stop thinking about the incident at the atelier; he didn't tell Akira anything about it, and he tries to keep an optimistic tone in his letters. He's been trying to replicate his former painting, but it wouldn't work out. Not only that, he's been thinking of whether or not he should bother the King anymore; for the sake of his reputation and his own.

The next night, he wonders if he should send a letter telling Akira if he’s busy or not, but he decides: out of sight, out of mind. When the letter from Akira comes, he holds in the temptation to give him a reply, and shoo’s the mechanical bird away, which only chirps irritatingly in response.  _ Maybe he’ll get the idea I’m busy. _

Except he didn’t.

Letters keep coming each night, with the King seemingly more concerned about why he hasn’t been sending mails. Yusuke should answer, but he merely piles the letters together and keeps them in a box so he doesn’t lose the letters, nor get the temptation to read them, therefore replying to them. Yusuke continues on with his life of fleeting loneliness, but determination for the king and happiness to befriending the other castle residents. As for Akira…

That night was the final breaking point.

Yusuke wakes up at the regular time, knowing Iwai will want him to continue practicing early; he has made substantial progress overtime, making even his instructor impressed, but of course, he’ll need more polishing and work. In time, he might even get to do the Velvet test during the rest days of the Grand Festival. Shinya sometimes drops by to help him spar, but he’s not as good at swords as he is with a bow.

It seems like all has been going well for him, except the King and his painting; occasionally, he’s down in the slumps not being able to talk to Akira for a while, but this time, he has a reason to leave him alone. Well, he always did, since a relationship between royal court painter and a King? Had been absolutely impossible to begin with. He can put some distance, the King can work on his own, Yusuke can also improve on his own as well. It’s a win-win. He’ll still be able to paint the King when his workload lessens, which is most likely after the festival ends. Which will be quite some time, enough to drift apart.

He also wanted to take a break from art for a while, especially because he didn't want to face the other artists, which would make his blood boil.

He dresses up in his usual clothing, brushes, and stretches, as per his regular morning routine. Refreshed, he looks himself in the mirror before he hears a knock on the door. Who it could be, Yusuke doesn’t know, and opens it up to Haru smiling, her eyes aren’t.

“Yusuke, had your good night’s rest?” She asks out of courtesy, and when Yusuke replies he did, she continues, “Great! The King wishes to speak to you. I’ll have you excused from arriving late to your training, all right?”

A part of him wants to see the king, another anxious, another wanting to keep training so he can get started on his Velvet Test. Yusuke nods, since he has no other choice, and follows Haru from behind, even with knowing where the throne room is. He hasn’t been to every corner of the castle, but he has certainly memorized hallways he frequents during his schedules. Sometimes he makes a detour to Hifumi to engage her in intellectual conversations and a board game exclusive to Yongen, Chequeire.

Haru gives Yusuke a brief nod, before opening the door for him to the throne room. He mutters a thank you to Haru, and enters in with a deep breath.

Inside is the usual king, looking lofty as always on his high chair. Ryuji is beside him, trying his best not to get distracted, but gives Yusuke a slight smile to show cordiality. It makes him feel more relieved, but something about Ryuji makes him seem nervous as well.

Yusuke fixes his gaze back at the king, whose gray eyes are… cold and uninviting. Why, he doesn’t know. Akira usually puts it on display for nobles and the like, but… never to Yusuke after their first meeting. It makes Yusuke shift a little, feel he’s been spoiled for too long, and regret some of his actions. But he never wanted Akira to look at him… like that. Even when he put distance between them, it was never to the point of no emotions whatsoever. Maybe it should’ve been this way all along. It’s his fault.

“Ryuji, would you close the door and mind plugging your ears from this conversation? It’s... private matters,” Akira asks Ryuji, who bows in confirmation and does what he’s told, shutting the door behind him as he waits on the pair.

When the door closes, the aloof king gazes back down on the painter in front of him. There’s silence, and Yusuke tries to keep his head down, knowing fully of Akira’s mood and intentions. It’s hard for him to even bear having the King look at him from above.

“Yusuke.”

He debates what to call him. “... Your Highness.”

He hears him take a huge breath. “Would you mind enlightening me on your behavior?” Akira asks, his tone even, which makes it even worse. 

_ He’s mad. He’s definitely mad,  _ Yusuke thinks.

“Kurusu-sama, you’ve been busy and -- I’ve been busy as well,” Yusuke answers, trying to seem composed. “Wouldn’t… be doing what we’ve been doing hinder the both of us? You get to work on your heavy workload, I get to focus on painting.”

Akira leans back on his throne, considering it for a moment, before shaking his head. “Well, no, you could’ve just… told me you were busy, right? Why do you ignore… them?” He accuses.

Yusuke stiffens.  _ It’s because I wouldn’t be able to resist replying to them if I read them,  _ he thinks. Instead, he says, “I simply haven’t the time to read them, your Highness. I apologize for not reading them, but-- what does it matter to you if I answer it or not? It’s only…”

He sees Akira hesitate, and for a moment, he looked… hurt. Pained. He doesn’t know the right term. But it wasn’t anger. Disappointment, perhaps, but not really. It’s only fleeting, as he goes back to his kingly persona. 

“Does it… Does it not matter to _y_ _ ou? _ ”

_ What? Of course it does. It does to me,  _ Yusuke thinks, but he rethinks answering the question when he sees the dismissive look on Akira’s face, as if he doesn’t want to hear the answer, anyway.

“... All right. If it doesn’t matter, then it doesn’t,” Akira says, looking away. “You may leave.”

Yusuke has the urge to refute that argument, to say it means a lot to him. It’s why he keeps them in a box, and puts it away safely, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to bother the King. It hasn’t been about his own progress all along. He just doesn’t want to seem like a nuisance to him.

If only he had been more honest.

Yusuke doesn’t say anymore, and bows, going on to shut the door to the throne room behind him as he exits. Ryuji stands nearby, nodding towards him. He raises a brow at the expression Yusuke’s wearing, though.

“Yusuke? Are you okay?” he asks, but Yusuke nods his head.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he says, giving him a small smile. Ryuji’s skeptical, even with the assurance he is. He looks back and forth between the door and Yusuke’s departing figure, before speaking up.

“Hey, I’m not the brightest person out there, but -- you can tell me if you want to,” he offers him, rubbing his neck. Yusuke doesn’t notice it before, but he’s confided a lot in Haru and Futaba a lot more than he has with Ann and Ryuji. They know his situation, but he’s never  _ asked  _ for their advice. Mainly just speculations and point of view. They don’t know how he feels about it, what he thinks about it.

Well, especially Ryuji; he always talks about picking up women, and for superficial reasons. He’s not the brightest of the bunch, nor does he have much… romantic encounters, but Yusuke would still want to consider Ryuji a friend anyway, even if he initially had his suspicions and disagreements over his ideals with him. Maybe he can give him a male perspective on the whole situation, since he’s been talking to girls as of late.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer later,” Yusuke answers.

 

* * *

 

With that promise, Yusuke’s more relaxed throughout the day; he’s able to focus more on training, even though Iwai was initially irritated at the delay. Yusuke will have to sacrifice some time to paint in order to make it up to him.

Yusuke feels like Iwai’s finally warming up to him; he’s less cold and strict, and even praised him at one point for improving. It’s a good thing, especially because he doesn’t have to dread every morning of his screaming and yelling, but he’s still on his toes to keep him sharp. At one spar match, he almost had Iwai, but his instructor had swift reflexes. Iwai did congratulate him on the plan he made up in his head, so it wasn’t a fail.

“You’re almost there,” Iwai tells him, amidst the sparring between wooden swords. His instructor had never faltered once during their matches, and Yusuke admires him for his skill and thinking. He doesn’t know him that much personally, but sometimes he catches him with a far look in his eyes. Those are the only times he seems vulnerable. Iwai is anything but vulnerable.

“I think the best time for you to do the Velvet test is on the Thursday of the festival,” Iwai advises, and Yusuke nods, before hesitating when his sword flies out of his hands, and the tip of the wooden sword is pointed at his neck. Yusuke concedes, and his mentor lowers his sword with a prideful smirk. “In any case, even if you trained doggedly for that day, it won’t be enough if you don’t have the courage. Just remember -- it’s not real.”

_ Not real, got it,  _ Yusuke thinks, nodding to himself. Iwai stretches before gesturing Yusuke away.

“Now, go practice by yourself. I’m going to take a break. You can go whenever you like,” Iwai says, and yawns. “Didn’t get a wink of sleep last night.”

Yusuke doesn’t ask why.

* * *

 

“Yes!” Futaba exclaims while Yusuke sits idly by on her bed.  Near her desk, she shows Yusuke a machine which hums to life. Its design is unlike the other machines; the wires are barely noticeable, and much more aesthetically pleasing. “Finally! Something that looks half-decent!”

Futaba’s works have been fully functional, however not efficient in the slightest; under Yusuke’s tutelage, she manages to be able to use his knowledge about art into her machinery -- incredible. Futaba is certainly a bright one. She grins, triumphant, and she lets Yusuke fiddle with it out of curiosity.

“This is… simple, but fascinating,” Yusuke muses, playing with it on his hands. Futaba peers from his shoulders, watching the machine do its magic. When Yusuke glances at Futaba’s face, she has a certain shine to her eyes -- proudness, it probably is. “It’s interesting how you can learn how to… design objects with what I teach you.”

“You just put them all together, yeah?” she says, patting him on the shoulder, and slinking away again. “Hey, thanks Inari.”

“Inari?”

She chuckles, leaning on her desk and crossing her arms. “Inari is this person I met back then -- when he also accidentally visited my room -- who was obsessed with foxes. His obsession with foxes reminds me of you with art,” she admits, much to Yusuke’s dismay and her amusement.

“That’s… interesting,” Yusuke remarks.

“Hey now, he was a friendly person -- consider that a compliment,” she says with a huff. Silence settles in, until she slides next to Yusuke and puts an arm to his shoulder, amounting to his confusion. “So.. anything happen with his Majesty recently? Juicy details?”

_ Oh yes, avoiding him and then his Majesty getting a bit irritated at me for that, thus dismissing me and cutting off all communications with me. Oh, yes, the paint incident as well,  _ Yusuke thinks to himself with a sigh.  _ Other than that, it’s been perfectly fine and healthy, thank you for your concern. _

“It’s…” Yusuke hesitates. “Well, we’re not on the best of terms as of this moment. Just a disagreement, but it’s not anything to be concerned about.”

“I’m your confidant!” She exclaims, tightening her hold and smiling at him  _ too  _ eagerly. “Come, come! Tell me your woes, my good sir!”

“... Why are you so insistent and eager about this?” Yusuke wonders, tilting his head to the side. He knows Futaba has always been enthusiastic about their relations, but as far as he knows, she is the least bit of interested in relationships. At least, for herself. Especially as her status as a shut-in. 

“Oh, come on, ever crossed your mind I’m just a friend who wants to help you?” Futaba hums, and Yusuke hesitates. She rolls her eyes. “All right, maybe I have a  _ few  _ \-- just a few -- ulterior motives, but it’s a win-win! I still help you!”

“How does it help  _ you? _ ” Yusuke presses on. It’s not like she benefits  _ too  _ greatly for her, anyway. It doesn’t have anything to do with her. Or at least, he thinks so. Maybe it’d be interesting to know, though, since his issues are like the ones the cheesy gossip and cliche romance stories. Yeah, not as if he was expecting that. He expected being a hermit and being alone for the rest of his life. Wow, that’s a drastic change.

Futaba pushes her glasses closer to her face. “Private!”

Yeah, nevermind. Maybe he doesn't want to know.  
  


 

 

“What’s with this h eavy angst?” Futaba says, shuddering as she hugs herself. “I prefer fluffy, thank you very much!”

“What?”

Futaba only pats him on the shoulders and shakes her head. “Nothing! Anyway, my only advice is that you’re an idiot. Also, that woman can suck a-” Yusuke clears his throat. “Anyway, I have two things to say: make amends with the King, and kill her! Simplest way to a the good ending route!”

Yusuke grabs her arm before she starts pumping it in the air like a madwoman. “Now, there’s no need for such violence -- it’s not like we can do anything about it,” he tells her, and she pouts. “And… well, isn’t that what I wanted? To distance myself from him?”

She narrows her eyes. “I can’t believe I have to do something to help you -- all right, as the Best Wingwoman trope, I’ll have to help you!” She says, sighing almost theatrically. “Look, Inari, the only thing you’re accomplishing with that is bothering him even _more._ Come on, why do you think he was _pissed_ _off?_ Because you’re ignoring him. Hey, I’d punch you in the face if you ever did that. Douche move.”

Yusuke casts his eyes down, tightening his grip on his pants. “Did I really hurt him?”

“Yeah, that,” Futaba says, pointing at him and shaking her head. “I insist you talk to him, bud. Or I’m going to have to strangle certain people.”

Yusuke rubs his face and takes a deep breath. “I’ll think about it, thank you Futaba,” he says. “I think… I’ll ask around for more advice.”

* * *

 

He sets some tea down on the table, sliding some over to Ryuji and Ann, who groans in relief and mutters a thank you, respectively. They’re silent for a moment before Ann smiles at him. “Yusuke, tell me about it.”

Yusuke takes the time to confess what happened and discuss his feelings. It’s expected Ann listens to him, focused, but it’s surprising to see Ryuji sincere. He hasn’t even spoke once since his monologue, which is a new record of silence he saw from him. 

Yusuke slouches as he finishes his story, and they both look thoughtful for a moment.

“What kind of-” Ann starts, before Ryuji imitates a zipper closing on his mouth. “Would do that to your painting?” She sighs, touching her hair. She looks back towards Yusuke. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, what’s done is done,” Yusuke answers, a little more relieved.

“If she weren’t a girl, I’d pick a fight,” Ryuji adds, raising his eyebrows. “It’s just… wrong. I bet your painting is sacred for an artist, huh? Uh, no offense.”

“None taken.”

Ryuji’s shoulders drop. “Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes. “Anyway, do you have an idea what you want to do about… the King, though?”

Yusuke recalls Futaba’s words.  _ Make amends.  _ That’s probably what he should do about it. That way, their painting sessions wouldn’t be  _ too  _ awkward. Plus, it feels… strange, being disliked by the person you like. It hurts, and he nearly regrets trying to make their relationship more than just servitude. Just being close to him, after all this, is enough for him. At least, he thinks so. 

“An idea, but I’m undecided,” Yusuke responds, nods his head. “Like I said, I wanted to distance myself from him… as long as I see him without having him look at me with disdain, I think… that’ll be enough for me. So I want to make it up to him.”

Ann taps on the table, tracing the circle of the cup with her finger. “Mm… you said something about a bird. Just send him a mail.”

* * *

 

“Your Highness?”

Akira blinks once, before focusing back on the plump advisor in front of him, with a caterpillar mustache. He wears a frown of concern. “Are you sure you’re fine today?” And he merely nods. His advisor shrugs. “Anyway, the commoners…”

Akira takes in visitors to sort out problems within the kingdom. Usually, there are lots of suggestions and little problems, but it seems like the latter. There’s an increase of stolen belongings among the kingdom, and it makes the public restless. Of course, it’s rationality to assign more guards to patrol the city, but with so much taking their day offs during near-festival times, he can only assign so much.

“Hire someone to track whoever these thieves are,” Akira merely answers.

The adviser bows, and turns away from him. He groans, mending to his headache, before slinking back into his throne with a sigh. 

After his situation with Yusuke, he hasn’t been able to focus at all throughout the day; Why would he ignore him? Did he get tired of him? Maybe it was a bad idea to keep wanting to meet him. It’s only natural Yusuke came to dislike him after forcing himself on him. The situation earlier didn’t help, either, especially he lashed out on him. He rues that decision.

Then, something pecked at him. He looks up, at see a mechanical bird with a letter in his mouth. His eyes widen.  _ A… letter? _

He detaches the letter from the bird, and he pats it, earning a satisfied chirp from it. He opens the letter, reading inside. His handwriting is recognizable and distinct; it’s elegant and flows on the page smoothly, which makes it a giveaway whether or not it was from Yusuke. An artist’s handwriting, hm.

As he reads it, he nearly drops the letter. He looks outside -- he should hurry. Akira waves at Ryuji over to him. “Hey, I need to go somewhere.”

Ryuji hides a smile, knowing what’s going to happen, and merely nods as Akira starts walking to the door.

It doesn’t last long; he opens the door, revealing Makoto from behind. She takes a step back. “Your Highness? Going somewhere?” she asks, before shaking her head. “Well, I have something to discuss with you.”

Akira bites his lip and glances towards the window. In the background, Ryuji silently broods. How much time is he going to have? With some reluctance, he nods, and goes back on the throne to discuss.

It’s more concerns about military, and because it’s trivial, Akira tries to keep it plain and simple. Makoto seems eager to talk about it, though -- and when she is, there’s almost no escape. Dark is approaching, and he can’t keep him waiting.

_ I’m going to be late,  _ Akira thinks, trying to stifle his desperation.  _ Let’s just get this over with. _

* * *

 

Yusuke sits at the gazebo, waiting. He might be found out again by the other artists, but it doesn’t matter to him anymore. He cares more about Akira more than how other people viewed him; as long as Akira isn’t harmed, they can’t deal any damage to him.

He’s been waiting for a while now, and it’s dark outside, only the lanterns out at night as it was last time. He has his doubts about whether or not he’ll come. He did say he’ll wait however it takes, and he’ll stay put until he comes. The choice whether or not he’ll come is his. If he won’t, he’ll just have to stay there until he does.

He stares at the night sky above; it’s a comforting sight to him, because the beauty of nature always cheers him up. It’s always a way to relieve stress for him. It’s a dreamy, ethereal perhaps.

_ Maybe he won’t come after all,  _ Yusuke thinks to himself, leaning back on his seat, and glancing down at the flowers. He recalls the time Akira put a flower in his ear, and he still has it in a vase inside his room. Quite a few things have happened since then, but not a lot of time.  _ Perhaps… that’s fine. _

Yusuke falls asleep easily. He drifts off into a dazed slumber.

  
  
  


_ Shoot, it’s so late already,  _ Akira says, pulling his cloak closer to himself. He hurries towards the gardens by himself, after Ryuji mysteriously disappeared. He walks along the cobbled paths that lead him across the flowery gardens, and the gazebo comes into sight.

He steps inside the gazebo, to find Yusuke. He’s about to open his mouth before he realizes Yusuke had fallen asleep. He’s slightly leaning to the side, nearly falling, and Akira only smiles and sighs. For some reason, he can’t stay mad at him forever. Even when he ignored him, he had hopes he meant well, still. He knows he’s a genuine person, so he wouldn’t have any ulterior motives.

He sits beside him, looking at him for a while. He looks so  _ peaceful.  _ It’s almost guilty as sin to wake him up now. Yusuke always looks peaceful, but to the point of vulnerable? Akira’s trying his best not to touch him.

_ S… So cute…  _ Akira thinks, flushing slightly. He can’t wake him up. He’d probably try to kill anyone who has the nerve to. He sighs, and leans on his shoulder to prop him up. …  _ I guess I can stay like this for a while. _

  
  
  


Yusuke wakes up the next day, still lethargic; he blinks once, and then twice. He expects to be on his comfy bed, high up, but instead, he sees the garden stretch before him, and the sun rising. He’s sitting on something hard, yet leaning over something surprisingly fluffy.

_ Where… am I?  _ Yusuke thinks, rubbing his eyes. He blanks out for a moment, before the memories start rushing to him -- the disdain, Ann and Ryuji, the King.

The King.

He looks over to where the soft spot lays and sees the sleeping figure of his beloved King -- Akira Kurusu.

It’s the first time Akira’s been a hundred percent vulnerable; sure, he has been around Yusuke, but it doesn’t mean his shoulders relax, or making ten backup plans in his head. This time, he’s in a dream world, leaning on his shoulder, looking tranquil.

Yusuke reddens quickly, placing the back of his hand on his face. Should he wake him up? No, he can’t! What does he do? Does he move and risk waking him up? Does he stay there and let him sleep?

That’s when he notices Akira’s smile, and he instantly thought of rooting into this spot. Permanently. There isn’t any way he’s going to move. Ever.

_ It’ll be fine for the King to have some rest,  _ Yusuke considers, reaching out to pat the king’s hair, but on a second thought, pulling away. He takes a deep breath, and leans back on him.  _ He’s been working hard. I believe he deserves it. _

* * *

 

Ugh. Seeing these lovesick idiots make me gag. I can’t believe I’m spying on two men who can’t even properly tell each other their feelings.

Yes, I’m hiding in a bush, so what? I can try to assassinate the king then and there, but you know, you’d be surprised just how much people are lurking in the shadows. They’re probably as sick as I am from watching these two all over each other, but it’s their job to watch over the King. Do they stalk him during  _ raburabu  _ times or something? Maybe in the bathroom? I’m a little more thankful for not being the ruler of the Yongen. 

It’s a suicide mission out here, I tell you. If I come out of the bushes and point the gun at them, It’d be like telling Yongen to kill me and wage war with Touqio ASAP. My only orders are to find more about the relations of this lanky-looking guy who the King somehow takes a liking in. I find myself doubting him for a second there. Well, what can I say, this guy has weird tastes -- fetish, maybe.

I can’t decide if it’s platonic or romantic. Whatever it was, they’re unbearably close. If we had that artist in our hands, the King will be on his knees. Can’t take him now, no. Soon, perhaps, when the Grand Festival arrives. It’s an opportunity we simply can’t let slip. It only happens each year. Make it count.

That guy is in for a whole lot of suffering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls dont wake up these adorable dorks
> 
> BTW: Yes, I really did make a new work.


	9. - A miracle come true!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some worldbuilding, a lethargic Akira, a d-d-d-d-duel, a goth doctor, an irate Futaba, Akechi on the prowl, someone who drank a little too much, a king who can speak cat language, and dancers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I wrote 4000 words for this chapter I was like yoooo what the fuuudge.
> 
> And then when I wrote 6000 I was like YOOOOO.
> 
> And then I continued writing and I said [YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!>](http://i.imgur.com/FrKlxzF.png)
> 
> I couldn't freaking believe what I just wrote! Someone gave me this REALLY SWEET COMMENT (hehe) and I'm like HECK YEAH I GOT SOME MOTIVATION UP IN HERE so I wrote like 5000 in one day WHOA.
> 
> Here's what happened and why I took a little longer: for a few days, I couldn't get the chance to write and it was 4 days of doing absolutely no work. BEFORE this happened, I took a few days off to world-build, AKA expand on the foreign affairs and all the events and history of this AU and its many kingdoms, as well as all the events that happened up till this point. I haven't gotten around to adding background information to every character five-six years prior to the events of "Will You Paint Me?", BUT I did establish new kingdoms and new totally cool details that I probably can't fit into the story. But I want to. _Wiggles eyebrows_
> 
> BASICALLY it was a TON of delays and delays upon delays. And even if those weren't there, I still would've had a hard time because I've been having a crisis where I'm really doubting the quality of my writing and losing direction of the conflict and plot of the story. But here's the thing, I haven't even gotten around to the juicy parts, and I'm nine chapters in! It'd be SO much easier if I can just rush in and skip all the "before the Grand Festival starts" but I always think of it as a missed opportunity to really give the characters some traits and highlight the everyday life, how much effort Yusuke puts into it, and how interesting it is to be there.
> 
> You guys won't have to wait long, though, just one to two chapters away until it might get just a little more interesting. You can basically skip all these, but you also have the choice of not and really getting to know the world. I spent some time expanding on the world outside of Yongen here, so if you're interested in that, then this is probably for you.
> 
> FINALLY adding Morgana and Takemi <3\. I have plans for the others as well, hehe, so if you find me missing Mishima or Chifuyu or something like that, I have plans for them in the near future that I think will really fit who they are.
> 
> While this chapter is not too much of prominence, like I said, it's mostly to add intrigue to the story while giving you a bit of fluff then and there. I really hope you like it!
> 
> \+ some extra notes at the end.

Akira awakens.

He first blinks a few times, registering his senses and surroundings. The air is chilly, yet comforting, his clothes feeling heavy on him. Lethargy surges throughout his whole body, making him nearly unable to move when sleep poked at him. His eyes are weary and prod for him to go back to peaceful slumber, but he fights it off. After all, the king had no time to be resting for too long when a kingdom rests on his shoulders.

Well, maybe this time, he’s resting on someone else’s.

He lifts his head to see the blue-haired artist watching the garden with a gleam in his eye. Something that screams fascination and desire. It’s an endearing action which eccentric painters like Yusuke would do -- take in every detail, capturing like a camera, the garden and its varieties of flowers exclusively exported from Touqio (Touqio leads regarding natural resources). Well, perhaps the people who aren’t artists would also admire the well cared-for garden. 

Akira tries his best not to move a muscle, wanting to watch his painter’s gentle face smiling toward the gardens for a little while longer without creeping him out. It’d be weird to admit he wants to stay like this for an eternity, but he does want to stay with Yusuke and take a break from all the paperwork Makoto ensures he does. Despite her standing, Makoto still acts like a motherly figure who tries to assist him in his youthful rule, being a leader herself. She makes sure she whispers a wise word in his ear now and then, and constantly reminds him to fulfill his mandatory duties to serve the kingdom well. Whenever she’d catch him playing with his cat, she’d scold him, but let him do it anyway. After all, she still values his happiness and knows he can’t be the robotic and perfect king who’d invest all his time into his people. Sometimes, Akira would joke giving the throne to Makoto. In a way, she’s like a secret advisor to him, or a second mother when his parents’ deaths devastated him. While he hadn’t known her for too long, they had an instant trust in one another after a certain incident within the kingdom.

When Akira makes a slight motion, Yusuke notices immediately and blinks once. He looks down towards the source of the disturbance, and gives Akira a small smile. “Oh, Kurusu-sama, you’re awake -- I was just admiring the beautiful flowers Haru cares for,” he says. As always, his voice is like a lullaby -- it’s calm and smooth, nearly lulling Akira back to sleep, but he tries his best to stay awake. “How wonderful it is for Haru to look after the garden; she’s done a splendid job, don’t you think? Just look at those flowers! They’re beautiful, and while I knew that flowers have been beautiful all along, I should use-”

Akira shifts his weight to get off Yusuke, and scoots a little away from him, earning knitted eyebrows directed towards him. “Kurusu-sama? Is something the matter?”  
  


Nothing he can admit to him.

“Nothing,” Akira answers, curling his hair in his finger and averting his eyes “Anyway-”

Sensing he was going to apologize for his actions, Yusuke catches his arm before he can speak any further. “Kurusu-sama,” he interrupts, making Akira look back at him in surprise. “I apologize for my selfish actions. I wasn’t thinking about your feelings… I promise I won’t push you away anymore, so I hope you can overlook it. I will admit I’ve been having… mood swings lately, and I took that out on you.”

Akira stares at him and shakes his head, slowly withdrawing his hand away. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s my fault. I just… no, I shouldn’t have gotten angry. I should’ve respected your time. It’s not like you’re obligated to speak to me… I’m, err, sorry,” he says, smiling and scratching his cheek. “My workload probably made me just a little irritated, and I lashed out on you for that. It was petty of me. I apologize.”

Well, he apologized anyway, much to Yusuke’s dismay. He doesn’t want the king to blame it on himself -- it’s shameful for someone of his position to even have the king do that on himself. He takes a deep breath, pondering on his reply.

“No! I mean, no, it’s not at all your fault, your Highness,” Yusuke replies, trying not to feel embarrassed for his trip-up. “You have your duties after all, and I made you worried, thus straying you away from your actual duties. I’ll ensure I don’t concern you anymore, so I hope you’ll focus on your obligations for your kingdom. Ah, that probably sounds hypocritical, since I made you come all the way here, more so making you fall asleep… You might even catch a cold.” Yusuke’s face writhes in worry as he surveys the constitution of his superior, still fair in complexion as ever, but as he leans in to examine him, he sees a bit of red on his cheeks, believing it to be signs of unhealthiness. 

“Um, I…” Akira tries to speak, but Yusuke turns his head sideways to look at his condition. Satisfied seeing that he’s still in good form, he resumes with less motivation, “how about this? We’re both at fault. Sounds like a deal? It’s kind of depressing for both of us to apologize.”

The painter withdraws from him, staring at him for a moment longer before nodding and turning away.

“Of course,” he responds, turning his lips up into a smile which didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Akira stands up and offers his hand to Yusuke, who hesitates to take it. They walk alongside each other through the garden, talking about the kingdom to stay away from their earlier conversation. Instead, they talk about the highly anticipated festival that has absorbed every servant into a train of daydreaming, even Ann and Ryuji.

“What’s the point of the Grand Festival?” Yusuke asks next to him, who looks ponderous at the gravelly pathway down beneath him. “I hear it’s to celebrate the founding of the kingdom, but I’m sure it’s expensive to host it every year. Surely you can always just not host it.”

Akira smiles. “It’s exciting for the kingdom, and it attracts all sorts of people from all over the world -- lots of influential people come over here and finally be themselves. They don’t have to put up this big noble front. Hell, sometimes the masters serve their servants for a day! Err, with certain limitations, of course,” he answers, stifling a little laughter. Yusuke shudders at the very thought of Akira obeying to anyone. “I meant, it brings people together. Commoners who have dreams, nobles who can’t seem to take a break, people who have worked day and night without any excitement -- they get what they all deserved. Not only does it raise the morality of my people, but it brings in potential contributors and improves foreign relations. Killing two birds with one stone, right? I wouldn’t relocate the Grand Festival for anything in the world.”

Yusuke can imagine it; rowdy men and women dancing in bars all night long, while kids hang around a warm fire telling stories and playing all sorts of games with adoring parents. Food and feasts among candled dinner tables, and a crowd forming around the performances Yongen has to offer for its people. How exhilarating it would be to participate in its many games and events Ryuji and Ann fantasize and rave on about to Yusuke, who are also anxious to see what reaction they would get from him. How much he’d want to spend it with the king, if he ever can.

He was too absorbed into that train of thought, it seems, as Akira touches his shoulder to prevent him from walking into a wall.

Before they can part ways, Akira catches his wrist for the last time. “H… Hey, do you mind if I call on you sometimes whenever I need company?”

 

* * *

 

When Yusuke arrives at the training site once again, huffing from running all the way, he faces the irate-looking instructor who flips the wooden sword in his hand. He looks up with an unforgiving expression plastered on.

“Yusuke, you’re late,” Iwai says, his tone even but he looks at him narrow eyes. Yusuke bows his head. He doesn’t give him time to apologize as he tosses him a sword.“Hurry now, you’re going to have to make it up.”

“Sorry-"

Before he can continue, his instructor suddenly attempts to fall a blow on him, but he acts quickly, bringing his sword up to block it before it can touch him. The wood hits each other with a smack, a satisfying noise that resonates within Yusuke to be a successful parry, and Iwai smirks -- Yusuke is improving quite nicely.

“Very good,” Iwai says, approval hinting at his tone.

Through the hot morning that baked the trainees there alive, Yusuke practiced with his instructor, skills coveted all around. Fortunately for the artist, he’s passing that knowledge to him. He never imagined this when he first came to Yongen -- learning to fight while juggling it with his duties of an artist, as well as maintaining relations with others. He only thought he’d stay as an aloof artist with an unusual passion for beauty and too introverted to befriend anyone, not building muscle or having friendships with several people who, in his opinion, are the kindest people he had ever met. Granted, he never had a lot of friends. Still, he knew he struck gold.

He also never thought he could wield weapons pretty decently; not because Yusuke looked lanky (partially true), but he has never, ever thought about using them. He only found senseless bloodshed disgusting -- at least, nonsensical in his eyes. Iwai had the face and demeanor of an immoral thug, as if raised his entire life from a dark alleyway, fending off killer rats and thieving scums. Odds are, that might be correct, but he’s more than meets the eye. Thanks to him, Yusuke learned, through the unspoken actions of his educator, while violence can never be justified, it can also be used to protect others.

Especially since Yusuke had found someone he wants to protect.  
  


 

 

Yusuke is worn out after the grueling, yet oddly refreshing training, pumping adrenaline through his veins. However, what next after the training, he doesn’t know. After all, he can’t go to the atelier, not after the awkward incident. He’ll have to ask Akira later about his break from being the court painter until Akira needs him or until he can muster up the courage once more to face the others at the atelier. It also has to deal with coping the loss of his weeks of work. 

Though, the others had every right to believe he had seduced the king, and while he didn’t see it himself, rumor does go around Yusuke had a certain air which attracted others. He’d refute their claims of ‘seduction’ if he could, believing the king had only ever looked at him in a platonic way, but even if he could prove it, he’d only get scorned, once again, for seemingly gaining favor through friendship with the supreme ruler of Yongen. 

As Yusuke turns to Iwai, he thinks to himself maybe he could speak to him; he wants to befriend him as he did with Shinya, even though it might be short-lived. It could help him with his training.

“... where are you from?” Yusuke asks, trying to make small talk. Iwai looks surprised at his question, but putting aside his skepticism, he looks away in thought, wiping his brow with his arm as he puts down his sword.

“I’m not sure why you even want to know,” Iwai answers, but he shakes his head anyway. “I’ll tell you this, though: I come from Sjibu-Yan.”

Yusuke has heard of it Sjibu-Yan one or two times, but he only knows it’s a neighboring country of Yongen. Due to formerly being a hermit, he had rarely heard of any politics or happenings within kingdoms, unfortunately, as much as he’d like to be well-informed. 

“Sjibu-Yan…”

“Heard of it, kid?” Iwai says, shrugging. “I’d thought you’d know about it. Not like you’d wanna go there, anyway. The economy there is hellish. Too many smugglers, corruption. Overpriced because the people there are greedy bastards. Yongen’s a much better place.”

Smugglers… Yusuke considers. What do they smuggle? As if Iwai read his mind, he continues, “they love their diamonds. So much so they’d kill for that stuff. I’m not even exaggeratin’. Most of all, the government knows about it. They’re all in your face, and they’re unashamed of they way they are! Kaneshiro isn’t even hidin’ it.”

Kaneshiro… Kaneshiro… now that’s a name Yusuke recognizes. As much as he’d love gossipers to shut their yaps, they're kind of useful for information like these or Yusuke would be completely blind to the world. Kaneshiro was a greedy ruler, he overheard -- and a few trivial details he rather not rethink about. Those ladies really do talk too much.

“Yongen truly is renowned all over...” Yusuke wonders, placing a hand beneath his chin. 

Iwai agrees with a nod, fiddling with the wooden sword in his hands. “I considered movin’ to Sengoku at first, though it’s real bad in there after its war with Shujin. Yongen was a safer option by a mile,” he answers. “If he doesn’t do anythin’ soon, the kingdom’s gonna be overpopulated. Fast.”

Now that he thinks about it, Yongen truly does have a diverse population; he has heard tales of other servants being survivors of the cruel Shujin, subjected to harsh punishments from being under the servitude of its rulers. There’s this one infamous duke who did unspeakable things to women. There’s also one outlandish story about the runaway princess of Shujin who had escaped into Yongen, but nobody recognizes who the princess actually is. Not like it matters to Yusuke, but that was fascinating to hear about, nevertheless. 

“Surely it’s because we have to help these victims -- which is what Yongen stands for? Wouldn’t it be counter-productive to send them back to their unforgiving homes and risk them -- no, guarantee them getting killed?” Yusuke responds. “They’d be safer here.”

“That’s what the king wants, I’m sure,” Iwai says, his face unchanging. “But he’s young, and he can’t face the fact that we can’t help everyone even if we wanted to. He’s gonna keep acceptin’ all these refugees, and it’ll be his downfall if he’s not gonna face the reality of the situation. He has to care for his own before he cares for anyone else. They’re better off goin’ to different safe havens. Shujin’s tyranny is their problem, not the king’s.”

Yusuke sees his point, but can’t help but want to disagree with him. While he does want to help the victims of Shujin and other kingdoms, it’ll heavily burden his people. Too many mouths to feed, too many people to keep track of.

“A revolution nearly arose in Yongen,” Iwai muses to himself, muttering about something else as he finally puts down his wooden sword.

“Hm?” Yusuke asks -- until the captain approaches them with confidence in her walk and a stern look.

“You two, are you just going to idle and talk here?” Makoto asks, sighing, looking between them. “If you aren’t going to train, I rather you take your departure.”

“Right,” Iwai says, nodding towards Yusuke. “We were just about to- hey, say Yusuke, don’t you have the Velvet test coming up soon?”

Yusuke is startled by his question, but nods, curious to see where he’s going with this. He grins and looks at Makoto, who looks back at him with a wary expression. “Captain, what about we show him a real fight? Let’s have a friendly spar; it’ll educate him.”

Makoto raises a brow. “We need a doctor on site if you’re gonna suggest that,” she answers. She frowns as she recalls a seemingly scarring memory. “Takemi’s going to be the end of me if we fight too seriously, and she’s supposed to be the doctor.”

“Right, safety first,” Iwai says, and whistles to a passing servant. “Fetch me the doc, all right?” He turns back to Makoto. “Right, happy?”

“Don’t blame me if she’s going to give you more injuries than healing,” Makoto answers. She motions Yusuke closer, who looks confounded, but obeys. Their world seems to wobble and distort. There’s a slight sharp pain in his head, but he ignores it. In a moment, the soldiers fighting all around him seem to disappear into thin air, leaving only Iwai and Makoto.

So this was what Haru was talking about. They both had the same ring which granted them access to the Metaverse at will, and they dragged Yusuke into it. He doesn’t know if Iwai just picked a fight with the captain for other motives, but at least he’ll be able to get information, either way.

  
  
  


Yusuke also never thought Makoto would ever concede to a fight -- she seemed like the type of person who tries to find a compromise or pacifies. She also looks like the kind you definitely wouldn’t want to anger, but he still found it hard to believe Makoto willingly obliged. 

But when they were about to begin the fight, Makoto had a certain look -- almost of anger, but not directed towards Iwai or Yusuke. Something fierce and burning within her, as if waiting to explode, as if suppressed this whole time.

“Watch and learn, kid,” Iwai says, walking to the proper position before hovering his hand over a gun. “You might want to take notes, because it’s going to be like this when you enter that hellhole.”

Yusuke makes sure to lean in a little closer.

“One…” Iwai mutters under his breath, unsheathing a sword slowly from his side; it looks like a genuine sword, making the onlooker hitch his breath. He’s frightened he’s serious about using it on her, and his fears were confirmed. A figure begins to appear behind him, fading into existence -- it’s a bit hard to make out, but it has a fairly intimidating figure which indicates armor.

On the other side, an apparition of a dark horse begins to materialize. Makoto hops into it, as if it’s a regular occurrence; since nothing began to appear behind her, he assumes that the mount itself is the Persona. It still makes Yusuke’s skin crawl -- the intense gaze of the scarlet eyes of the horse, its massively imposing figure, and the way it can probably crush anything it tramples upon on.

“Two…” the sword at Iwai’s side is fully unsheathed, revealing a sharp-looking blade that glistens under the sun; it’s almost as long as a katana, but not quite. His Persona begins to look more apparent: it has samurai armor, the traditional kind. It wears a masked face, however.

He almost overlooked Makoto, and by this time, he’s shocked to see her clothes have completely changed; dark, metallic armor, a black helm hiding her face, and -- here’s another fact that surprises Yusuke once more -- spiked knee pads. 

Before three was dropped, they were already in full swing; Iwai’s a competent foe, utilizing his crossbow and sword in harmony. The rumors about him are true; he’s a mercenary, so while he’s driven on coins, it makes him worthwhile when you see him in action. Something fluid in his movements and the way he can maneuver from weapon to weapon in a swift motion is mesmerizing. 

There are also rumors of Iwai being in an infamous group before he had went on to be a freelancer, though; why he had left that way of lifestyle, Yusuke doesn’t know -- nor does anyone, if the rumors are true. He usually dismisses them because substantial evidence does not support stories like those, but seeing him now, it could be a possibility.

He seems to be having a difficult time though; after all, Makoto is the captain for a reason. She moves lightning quick, even without the help of her cavalry. Yusuke can see it: Makoto has the advantage against him. Her attacks seem to deal more damage to him, sometimes rendering him immobile.

Maybe everyone has a weakness.

It still makes him wonder how she can move quickly in her tank-like armor.

In the end, they stopped before anything gets too serious; it still provided Yusuke with substantial information, watching the two duke it out. The understanding of their limited times of using skills like Mafrei and the like, and occasionally their own health. Also technical damage and weaknesses and strengths.

Makoto looks like the victor, though, since Iwai is in a worse condition than her. Then again, his weakness against her attacks is to blame for that. They momentarily fade back into the real world. Makoto collapses on her knees, catching for breath.

“He wasn’t easy, even though I had the upper hand,” Makoto muses, smiling, even through her heavy breathing. “He’s a difficult one.”

Before Yusuke can reply properly, a grim-looking figure came rushing over. It almost scared the living out of him when he took in their attire; a long, dark overcoat with a beak-like cover, carved with intricate designs. There’s a small mask inscribed into the center of it, which represents the kingdom of Yongen: hidden, but flamboyant at the same time. It’s funny, because it reminds Yusuke of Akira.

N… Nevermind that. The figure apparently looked suspicious, but no one seems fazed by its presence, so the painter stays put as it kneels over Makoto. It examines it within its glassy eyes, Yusuke eyeing it warily just in case.

Momentarily, after considering Makoto a little more, it finally takes its hood and mask off to reveal a pale-looking woman, hair styled into a dark blue bob cut. It's relieving she doesn’t look as threatening as before, and it seems like she’s helping Makoto.

“Let's get you patched up, shall we?” Takemi says, trying to heave her up. Makoto only nods, awkwardly standing up once more. A little weak in the knees, but nothing she can’t handle. She helps prop her up, but taking a glance at Iwai, she groans. She looks around the sufficient, competent soldiers around her -- and out of ALL of them -- she looked at Yusuke. “You there, help the other guy up and help me take them in, all right?”

Maybe she just enjoys picking on the lanky-looking guys, because Yusuke obviously shouldn’t have stood out from the others in a different way. 

He tries his best to help Iwai all the way to the doctor’s, though the man is  _ a teeny-tiny bit _ bigger than Yusuke’s tall and slim frame. Takemi doesn’t seem fazed with helping Makoto, not even batting an eye at Yusuke’s struggle.

For what seems like forever, they finally arrived and dropped both of them into beds. They seem relieved of their ailments after that, and the woman all but takes a seat down. Yusuke would’ve expected her to treat them; however, she only examines their condition and waits for them.

“I’d think you’d do more for them,” Yusuke says to her, taking a seat as well. The female doctor only chuckles at that, as if amused by his naivety. 

“They’ll only need to rest for now,” she answers, averting her attention to the oblivious artist. “Plus, it’s not like they have a disease -- and I assure you, it’s not a very pretty sight.”

Yusuke only nods, acknowledging her words and pondering on her last ones. What… Kind of things does she do for them? He shudders at the very fact. He isn’t going to venture in his imaginations, no. It’s still good news, though; they're not seriously injured, and that’s what matters to Yusuke. He’s still frightened if he’s going to be like that in every single fight he does, but taking into account just how proficient both of them are, it’s unlikely he’ll be up against shadows equalling to them.

Another fact also stands out to Yusuke: the doctor is a female. At least, he believes so. Her bob cut might mean she just looks like a very pretty boy, but he can bet money otherwise. There aren’t a lot of female doctors at this time and age, and even if there were, most of them were unofficial. Yusuke won’t deny the fact Akira probably didn’t care about that, even though it’s usually looked down on. It’s not like Yusuke also cares who tends to him, as long as they’re competent, so it doesn’t matter to him. Still, certainly interesting. She had a jumble of paper she had a firm grip on, ink a little messy, yet discernible. Scrawled on it are notes, probably from all the other patients she had.

“... May I ask, what’s your name?”

The melancholy looking doctor gives him a sideway glance, but she remains nonchalant and unmoving. “Tae Takemi. I usually oversee all the injuries of the castle, but the rest of the staff are out to gather herbs and materials and the like.”

Yusuke would like to push the topic of her being a woman, but he didn’t want to be rude. “Then, you must be a prominent person within the castle, is that right?”

Takemi shrugs her shoulders, glancing down to her notes. “Indispensable, there are other skillful doctors out there. I just happen to be a lucky pick. Though, I do like my position.” She only smirks.

Yusuke dwells on her being ‘lucky’. He has yet to know whether or not she was right about that or not. It’d be hard to believe, because of her gender, that it was simply  _ luck.  _ However, he knows Akira isn’t so oblivious that he doesn’t know the consequences of recruiting a female doctor to his ranks. She must be very proficient at what she does to catch the attention of the just ruler.

“If you injure yourself,” Takemi continues, “you’ll find me again sooner or later. I’d say I hope we meet again, but I don’t think that would be very wise.”

“I do hope to see you once more on… Other terms,” Yusuke answers, trying to be polite. He looks at the window outside, and sees how high the sun is in the sky.

…

He shouldn’t keep Futaba waiting long.  
  


* * *

 

“Inari?”

 

“....”

 

“INARI!”

 

Yusuke nearly falls back as Futaba is -- once again -- close to his face, looking huffy. She pulls back and crosses her arm, tapping her foot.

“Hey now, I didn't help you to get you to space out again,” she says, sighing, and putting her machine down on her desk. She leans on her desk, looking at Yusuke dead in the eye. “I need answers! You've been running back and forth every five minutes to the throne room! We barely even had time to talk this morning!”

After his training, he met up with Futaba again, only to be thwarted when Akira called for him. Since then, Akira kept asking for him and wanting to see him, leaving Yusuke pleased, a touch wan, slightly irked, and thoroughly tired. In short, he has mixed feelings. While it was flattering Akira wanted to see him every five minutes he departs, he has to regularly leave Futaba in her irate state and run all the way there to keep him from waiting. His muscles are sore and weak from doing all that, and by now, his face might be a little bruised from Futaba.

When he did arrive at Akira’s, Akira would embrace him from behind and settle his head on the crook of his neck in an affectionate manner, making Yusuke sending goosebumps through his skin. It made him satisfied, strangely. Yusuke had to resist it, though, because it was far too intimate. They were friends, or at least he thought so. More than friends, less than lovers -- an ambiguous relationship Yusuke pondered upon. As much as he’d like to be humble, he wasn’t an idiot or dense; the king was doing this for a reason. Someone like Yusuke would know even that much. It made him happy and uncomfortable at the same time. While he promised he wouldn’t avoid him ever again, an urge lingered within him to stop before it gets out of hand and his Majesty’s reputation is tarnished. Not only that, it was strange for Akira. He always kept his distance to certain people, yet when it came to him, he was too trusting of Yusuke.

He doesn’t understand this sudden change in Akira’s behavior, because only a while ago, he was more or less the same. If Sojiro suddenly mixed something into his food or something, it was certainly possible.

When he departed, Akira looked utterly desolate like a rejected puppy, but Yusuke reassured him and left, only to be called upon again in a few minutes. 

The worst part is, Ryuji has to sit through all that and be highly uncomfortable, but he would always give Yusuke a thumbs up and wish him luck. Yusuke wants to apologize to him a million times for Akira’s near fondness of PDA. Despite this, the king is unfazed and almost too readily agreeable. 

“Gods, please help me,” Futaba says, imitating a prayer. “I didn't think the King was that type. You both have terrible taste, you know that?”

Yusuke ignores her last remark. “His Majesty confuses me a lot, but I don't particularly dislike it. Though I'll admit being weary from traveling back and forth,” he answers. He's nearly flustered. “I don’t understand, but it seems he has a certain… infatuation for me.”

“Mmm…” Futaba places a finger on her cheeks, her eyes looking away. She blinks and then looks back at Yusuke again. “Indulge?”

“Indulge?”

 

“You know, go along with it. If you understand me.”

Yusuke has never been one to have colored cheeks. He’s pale, and doesn’t even think about saving face. Although, with Akira’s presence, it has been happening more and more often. He’s always been composed and perhaps standoffish at times, but his king is way too good at breaking down his barriers. He doesn’t know if he should be happy or scared about that, but that’s what Akira does. Thus, he colors slightly. “Impossible, Futaba. While we are on friendlier terms, there’s a limit to everything. He’s still the king, if you already forgot, and therefore, we cannot venture any further.”

Futaba merely sighs. While she would like to nudge Yusuke in a better direction, there were times he had to figure out things himself, or she would always have to elbow -- sometimes maybe push him forcefully -- into the right path. “Right, okay.”

Silence settles between them as she goes back to her seat and fiddles with the machine in her hands. Yusuke daydreams for a few more moments before he only has two minutes until someone comes knocking on his door. He should talk to Futaba with his limited time as much as possible. After all, she did help him.

“I was conversing with my instructor this morning about Sjibu-Yan -- he was talking about Shujin and the number of refugees that came from there to Yongen,” Yusuke begins, trying to think of a conversation topic. “Do you have any knowledge or thoughts on the matter?”

Futaba tilts her head while unwinding her machine. “I’ll let you in on a secret: Sojiro used to be a noble,” she answers, her tone sounding as if she was answering what’s for dinner even with such a serious confession. “He was good friends with the king and queen. Then there was this one boy who he kept visiting until he just gave up his position like that. He usually never tells me anything, but that’s what I could piece from our earlier conversations.”

Yusuke is stunned. Sojiro has a reputable background? And he’s working in the kitchen now? Well, who would’ve thought. It was unorthodox to have someone from such a wealthy upbringing degraded into a position that was most certainly obscure… 

Obscure…

It wouldn’t surprise Yusuke if he wanted to hide his past, which made partial sense because of his position, but from what, he didn’t know. He had a gut feeling Futaba was involved in this ‘reason’ of his, but it’s not like his business. Still a fascinating tidbit he doesn’t mind venturing further to know more about. Perhaps talking to Futaba would uncover more about it. Extra knowledge is always welcomed, especially since he’s been closed off from the rest of the world for so long.

“Interesting…” Yusuke muses to himself as three consecutive knocks on the door was heard. He knew exactly what that meant. He looks at Futaba, who merely sticks his tongue out at him, but didn’t protest any further. He takes that as a sign of acceptance. He gets up and silences the messenger for he knew exactly what they want, and hurried to the throne room.

As usual, even after going through it a multitude of times the same morning, it almost gave Yusuke a heart attack as Akira -- his king -- creeps from behind him and embraces him into a tight hold, making his body stiffen. It was unorthodox for Akira, or any king really, to be as affectionate as he was being. He didn’t know why he was acting this way, only that he had a particular fondness for him. It startled and confused him, but he still wouldn’t complain. 

“Kurusu-sama, what do you need?” Yusuke manages to sputter out, fighting the urge to add ‘again.’

 

“...”

“...”

“...”

“You.”

 

Akira’s not even trying to hide it.

At the corner of the room, Ryuji looks away and whistles to himself, trying to ignore the two desperately. While Ryuji doesn’t mind Akira liking Yusuke (“r-really!”), he doesn’t particularly find it… Comfortable guys -- no, couples! -- being lovestruck in front of him. If anything, he’s pretty happy for his king and friend, who he’s been his friend for a long while. Back when they were twelve, actually…

Yusuke’s cheeks nearly flush at his words, but he tries to brush his absurdly obvious remark by shaking off Akira’s embrace, who looks disappointed at the gesture. He sighs, slightly smiling as he looks at the king, who’s pouting at the absence of the artist. 

With Akira holding him, it was warm and comforting, as if he could fall asleep and he would be protected by his object of affections. Watching him. Comforting him. Protecting him. It was a nice feeling that all went away when he pulled away.

Damn, this sounds way too cliche. He’s not going to fall for it. 

“Uh, I hate to break it to you guys but,” Ryuji interrupts from across the room, not looking at them at all. “Akechi’s visiting today.”

Akira looks surprised, and only glances at Yusuke with a beseeching look that screams “help me.” The artist shrugs, and bows. “If you don’t need me for anything else, then I best be off,” Yusuke tells Akira, who looks slightly annoyed by the sudden occasion. Without anything else to do, he gives an apologetic glance to Yusuke and dismisses him.  
  


“... You don’t have to answer but--” Ryuji takes in a deep breath through his teeth. “What’s with you today?”

Akira hums to himself, looking too blissful for his own good, as he smiles up at his companion. “Nothing in particular,” he answers a little too happily. 

While he may not be able to get the whole truth out of him, Ryuji feels better his friend is in a good mood; on the fateful day he had met Akira, melancholy and all alone at the gazebo four years ago, he wanted nothing to do with Yongen or ruling it.  When he knew him better, he never wanted him to look the same way he had again. He had developed an instant fondness and friendship with the young monarch who would go on to be an influential youth, and all he had to do was listen to him rant about his problems and a bit of persuasion to get him to take his position willingly. After that day, he had never seen Akira look downcast, not even slightly sorrowful at any point. Nor did he ever wore an authentic smile -- only mischievous grins and smirks which were the dead giveaway of his true nature. His guise of an unknowing, seemingly innocuous ruler had been the downfall of others. 

When Yusuke came, he was livelier than usual, happier -- genuine. Akira was occasionally like that to Ann and Ryuji and a few more of friends he had made over his rule, but he was always like that around the painter. His knight is satisfied knowing he’s happier.

Deep in reverie, he almost forgot about the advancing prince of Touqio striding inside the vicinity. He bows deeply for Akira, not acknowledging Ryuji even once. Ryuji knows he isn’t of importance, truly, and he’s gotten used to it. He’s more like a background character, and is mainly overshadowed by the prominent presence of the king.

“Your Highness, lovely evening today, isn’t it?” The prince says, soft and polite like he always spoke. The way he speaks could be a lullaby itself, and somehow, it ticks Ryuji off. He doesn’t hate him, no, but someone like himself could never truly be comfortable with the likes of the mellow Touqio prince. They’re just too different. And not in ways that could complement each other.

However, as much as Akira seems to loathe nobles, slightly, just slightly, he acts differently to him; it can’t be easily seen, but being by his side nearly 24/7, it’s difficult to overlook the difference in his usual nonchalant behavior. He knows his king is suspicious of the prince, sure, yet he hasn’t completely shut him down. He still has his mandatory remarks that get under the high rankings’ skins, but his comments have less of a sting towards the fellow. 

Akechi seems like he has a lot to hide, and maybe those things were something Akira had taken pity in, even only just a little.

“Yes, there hasn’t been terrible weather in a while,” Akira answers, his shoulders stiff and vigilant, as if he’s on guard. Akechi continues to smile, even though he seems to have noticed Akira’s self-defensive position. He has a sharp eye, that prince. His looks aren’t the only thing that has garnered the attention of mistresses, and perhaps, others. “Now, what are you here for, Akechi-kun?”

Akechi raises his hand, his smile never faltering. “You can call me Goro, if you’d like, we’re all equals. It’d make me more relaxed,” Akechi suggests. “Perhaps you’re in a higher position, actually, but I’d still recommend you call me by my first name. It simply feels distant to address each other so formally when we’re allies.”

Akira hesitates. “G… Goro-kun,” he says, not dropping the honorific. Fair enough. “I’d like you to get to the point.”

“My apologies. Yes, I’d like to assist you with the Grand Festival with some troops of mine,” Akechi offers, dropping his hands to his side. 

Akira looks thoughtful for a moment, before looking back at the mild-mannered prince. “What… exactly are your motives?”

Akechi shakes his head. “Don’t misunderstand me, your Highness, I only wish to assist you as a token of our friendship,” he says, tilting his head. He chuckles. “Besides, Touqio’s soldiers would like to see the Grand Festival, so consider it to help boost my military’s morale and your people safer.”

Ryuji’s a bit skeptical about this plan, but as always, he’s never been trusting of this pretty boy. He’s well convinced he had something to hide, and Akira’s suspicions have also triggered as well. It wouldn’t take a genius to see he had some other motive, but Akira’s interested in what he plans to do. Perhaps he’ll keep an eye out, but he couldn’t say no to his people. That’s his priority, so his offer is tempting. For now, he’ll have to accept. Akira’s confident he can always fix whatever damage Ake-- Goro attempts to deal on his kingdom. 

Akira flashes a smile, causing the Touqio prince to jump 0.01 inch off the ground. “Then, I’ll allow it. I’ll see to it you are protected on your way.”

“Oh, no need, I have my own who’ll protect me,” Goro insists, giving him a glance of appreciation anyhow. “Besides, you’ll have to protect that artist.”

Akira immediately flinches at the word _ artist _ , and looked aghast as the royalty walks away with his bodyguard, only looking behind him one last time with a smile.

“What?”

“My apologies, but I haven’t said anything. I’ll see you at the Grand Festival, your Highness.”

He walks away as Akira only looks on with something like dread settling in his stomach, and Ryuji could only blankly stare at Akechi as well, unknowing of the words he had muttered to himself.

 

* * *

 

“Sojiro’s been testing all day long about his new recipe -- he’s trying to add wine into it or something,” Ann muses to herself during their time of break. Ryuji and Yusuke look at each other, and they wonder if that has something to do with the king. 

“Wine?” Yusuke echoes, curious to know more about the recipe. Yusuke is no culinary aficionado, but he certainly does enjoy an aesthetically pleasing dish with a good taste. Sometimes, Ann would have to stop him from mixing weird flavors into his dish just to stop him from making his own food into one funky-tasting art piece. 

Ann nods, and sighs like a lovesick girl. “Yeah, and you should try it! Others have tried it, even the King. He might’ve gotten one too many, but you can’t mistake just how delish it is!”

They saw it a mile away.

“I guess I’ll have to ask Sojiro about it later,” Ryuji answers, enthusiastic about trying alcohol. He tries not to shiver at the glare he might get from the head chef. “He might have a thing or two about me trying it, though…”

“I wouldn’t entrust you with that dish at all,” Ann chimes in, and they exchange banter over the table while Yusuke sits in quiet contemplation. What does alcohol make you do? Tell lies? Get a little too bold? Distort your vision? 

Become honest?

He chugs down his water before he can think more about the king’s action. Ann and Ryuji blink once at Yusuke’s sudden movement.

“... Uh, you all right there?”

Yusuke nods his head in an eager attempt to cover it up. “Y-Yes, I’m fine, thank you for your concern,” he answers, trying to look nonchalant by cutting his food in pseudo-disinterest. His friends shrug their shoulders, and continue to talk.

“Did you know? As part of the Grand Festival, we’re going to have the best dancers of Yongen! I’d participate in it, but I have to be in charge of all the dresses…” Ann laments, but shakes her head and smiles. “Sometimes I’d like to be the one in those dresses, but it’s not like I can dance, anyway!”

Ryuji looks somewhat interested on the topic. “Wow, I can see girls dancing in revealing clothing? Sounds… well, count me in.” He nudges for Yusuke, who stares back up at them after contemplating a little while longer. “What about you, Yusuke? You’re a guy, aren’t cha? You should be excited about it!”   


Frankly, Yusuke doesn’t. While he does think women are a pretty nice sight, he likes to look at them from an angle of an artist. They’re beautiful -- beautiful to paint and replicate on another medium. They’re attractive, sure, but it’s not like Yusuke thinks about those things because it’s merely their profession to seem desirable.

Ann scoffs, shaking her head. “Nah, why have skimpy dancers when you can have a king wrapped around your finger?” she says, and looking at Yusuke’s shocked expression, she laughs. “I’m just kidding! But I don’t think Yusuke would have any interest in that sort of thing.”

“True,” Ryuji says, but he shrugs his shoulders. “ But, c’mon! He’s still a guy, he also has those kinds of thoughts too, y’know?”

Yusuke won’t deny that fact, either. He had once overheard women conversing about the ‘perversion’ of humanity.  _ Oh, well, I think everyone’s perverted, we just all have a certain degree of how much we’d admit to,  _ one of them said, and Yusuke wonders if that’s really true.

“It’s a shame, though, his Majesty’s been on the frantic search to find a replacement for a lead dancer after the other one got into a certain… incident. All the girls at the castle are too shy for it, and it’d be too difficult to hire someone from a different kingdom in such a short span of time. They probably wouldn’t even get to come here in time,” Ann says, looking a bit somber. “They were thinking of changing plans, but they can’t just revise such a grand scale plan in such little time. Like I said, I’d volunteer, but I don’t have the time and resources for it.”

Ryuji sulks. “So we might not even be able to get anything this year,” he replies with disappointment hinting in his voice. Ann nods in agreement, sighing with him. 

There’s a knock on Yusuke’s door, and a messenger who once again informs Yusuke he must return to the throne room once more. He gives his friends a quick smile before hurrying to the king once more for the trillionth time for the day.

When he got there, it seems like Akira has worn out most of the wine, grasping his head in silent pain on the throne instead of the usual sneak attack. A part of the artist is relieved about that. That being said, he still called on him, so maybe not all of that liquor got out of his system just yet.

“Y… Yusuke, how nice of you to come here on such short notice,” Akira says, his tone voice as he winces in pain, trying to sort out his headache. “Your presence is comforting. Would you come closer?”

“Yes Kurusu-sama,” Yusuke answers as he walks towards him, Akira’s temporary bodyguard tilting his head at the court painter. His king looks somewhat relieved and rejuvenated, and looks at him for a good while as Yusuke merely stands there, staring back at him. He isn’t sure what’s happening, but it looks like his majesty is  _ sizing him up _ .

“What do you think, Morgana?” Akira says, directing the question to the relaxed-looking cat perched on top of his throne. Yusuke doesn’t see him often, but he has once or twice before. He hears that the king talks to his cat like a human being, has actual conversations with it, but he hasn’t seen it in action.

The black cat meows in response, and Akira nods. He motions Yusuke closer, who obliges with increasing puzzlement. Instead, the feline climbs down the throne and into Akira’s lap, where he examines the artist out of curiosity. It looks back to Akira and meows again, who nods as if he understands cat language.

“Yusuke, I have a favor to ask you,” Akira says with a serious expression written on his face as he takes his pet into his arms, stroking its fur as he looks up to him. “Do you have time?”

Yusuke thinks back to his ruined painting -- right, it’s a good time to tell his king. “On that note, I want to ask if I can take a break from painting,” he says, and Akira’s eyes widen. “Well, I mean, if you have time to be painted again, I’ll gladly come, but I can’t paint anything else during my free time. Is staying here be fine for you?”

Akira looks down to the cat, who stares back at him. He goes back to stroking him and lifts his head once more. “Yes, if you’d help me.”

Yusuke nods slowly, hoping it isn’t impossible. “As you wish.”

“Would you help with the dancing for the Grand Festival?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's SO much I want to explain to you in this chapter because I did a lot of research on it BUT I forgot most of what I wanted to say, but here's some clarifications:
> 
> \- The outfit Takemi was wearing is for plague doctors, you can research more about that if you search it up, but in a nutshell, these are the types of doctors during the Black Death who tended to the patients. They wear those costumes to 'protect' themselves from miasma (the masks are scented!) but they rarely cure their patients, anyway, they mostly just keep count of how much died for demographic purposes. The reason why Takemi wears this will be explained sooner or later. ;))
> 
> \- Like history shows us, females were usually not very well-received for working in professions outside of homemaking and chores and whatnot. So for Takemi to be a doctor, an official one at that, is VERY unorthodox and highly looked down upon.
> 
> \- The weird process Takemi means is when they collect the bodily fluids of their patients and then examine it closely to see what treatment they should give them. Medicine was very primitive and limited back in medieval times, and it reflects in this story.
> 
> \- Yes, Makoto does not have Johanna as a motorcycle. Motorcycles, of course, do not exist in the medieval times, and as such, she rides a dark horse. While it is weird for Iwai to have a samurai as a Persona, I'll just ask for you to overlook that singe detail -- I might change it later on, but I think it's fitting for him for reasons I won't admit. 
> 
> \- Since guns did not exist in the medieval times, I had replaced Iwai's usage of guns to crossbow. I almost did make the mistake he uses guns, but I quickly revised it.
> 
> \- Sengoku is meant to be Shinjuku.
> 
> \- Sjibu-Yan is the same way you say Shibuya but... Shibuyan.
> 
> \- The legal drinking age is very ambiguous at this time and age; in medieval Europe, water was unclean, and because Europeans didn't know boiling water kills bacteria, they drink beer instead. There WERE beer made for children, but they're less intoxicating. You can research more about this if you want to, but at least that's what I got. If 14 was the adult age in medieval times, you can say that they're well above drinking age. LOL.
> 
> \- A few other things I forgot to mention
> 
> Please tell me your opinions and feedback for the story -- because yes, I do get motivation from all your sweet compliments, and I do want to hear your thoughts about it so I can really improve. I spent some time watching and reading a few mediums for ideas, so some elements of other stories might be included here.


	10. I know its gonna be tough...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll... let you learn on your own. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I freaking switched up my end and beginning notes. Also, I had to reupload due to some technical difficulties. I probably f'ed up your notifications or something, forgive mee!! QQ
> 
> "What, three days? Seriously? It's been three damn days and you're updating?"
> 
> Hell yeah, I am.
> 
> I just can't contain myself, all right?! If I get done a chapter, I want to publish it ASAP. I was going to post it on Sunday because maybe consistent weekly updates will be helpful, but after my burst of inspiration and excitement, I couldn't help myself and wrote a 9k chapter (now it's like, 8.95k words now LOL) in a flash. I should _probably_ get working on my summer assignment... nah.
> 
> After I wrote my 9k chapter, I cut out a few lines because I wanted to improve on some prose and cutting out unnecessary information, but no, I haven't edited that much actually. Just up to probably 1/5 of the story or something. However, I did notice that I'm probably pumping out this chapter _too_ fast, so I created a short, 700~800 story explaining a part of Ryuji's background that I may not be able to introduce into the story. Hopefully, you'll come to appreciate my vulgar boy more.  <3
> 
> (P.S. Akira/Ryuji is one of muh ships fam. Actually, Akira and either Goro, Ryuji, and Yusuke. Perhaps a bit of Mishima, but I don't see that often in AO3. D: I should probably make a 'what if Akira liked Ryuji' sort of thing set in the same universe sooner or later.)
> 
> (P.P.S. I would've made Ann's first, but you probably need to know Akira's and Ryuji's before we dive into her's.)
> 
> This is the first time I'm writing a dancing scene. It's probably not good either, but I tried my best to put in what Yusuke is feeling. Expect him to feel very intensely about his friends. It's recommended you probably hear some Middle-Eastern music or something in that scene. It felt more alive to me when I tried it! That's the theme I was going for. It's a medieval setting, but as mentioned in the story, they got this theme from different kingdoms with different cultures, mainly the coastal kingdoms and the ones that's surrounded by sand. Just a clarification if you don't get it.
> 
> A few more things!! QQ I introduce Futaba's story (about her mother and all) in the story right now. It deals with issues like suicide and a few others that might trigger people. In this case, I marked the section dealing with this with a **red flag**. And, just in case, I also added an NSFW warning as well. It's likely that I won't use it, but it's a possibility. In that case, I'll need to figure out who tops... LOL (you guys need to tell me what you want).
> 
> And, one last thing: I'm thinking of making a Tumblr, but I don't think I'm that popular enough to even start one and get people using it. I wish there was a different way I can update people on my status or some important announcements -- maybe that'll be good enough. Then again, I can't ensure how many people will actually look at it. I'll probably shoot out a comment a few days or a week from now to tell you guys if that will ever happen (I doubt it will).
> 
> Speaking of which, if you saw my other fanfic, then this announcement is for you, and if not, you can skip this. I apologize it hasn't updated in quite a bit. I was focusing a little more on this because it has a bigger audience. I am partially working on the new chap, and I won't give up on it, but so many things could be done with this and will require TONS of research about Japanese folklore and mythology. I know what I'm getting into. And it'll probably take a while for me to work on it. UGH, I really do wish I can update people some other way.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy and I'll appreciate some feedback -- most of your comments were so wonderful, I'm really happy that you took notice of the worldbuilding!! <3 You guys are the BEST.

Yusuke is flustered.

He usually isn’t, but when it rains, it pours.

“Pfft-- BWAHAHAHAHA-!” Ann couldn’t stifle her laughter at the sight before her eyes. Neither can the others as they drink in the most astounding view they’ve ever seen in their whole lives.

Yusuke pretending to be a girl in revealing clothing.

With the remaining dignity that remains within him, he crosses his arms to shield his exposed skinr; it didn’t help the theme for the dance was _oriental,_ outfits originating and highly adored by the coastal kingdoms like Hanae. Even the appeal reached over to Shujin, the biggest source of diamonds and minerals. To this, they add their own contribution in the dancers’ outfits; Yusuke’s skirt-length bottoms are as blue as the sapphires found in Shujin, and embroidered by small pearls forming like a belt around the waist. And, embarrassingly, his ‘top’ is also adorned with a dash of diamonds -- Shujin does love to show off. It’s even more mortifying for Yusuke to move when the fringe of pearls attached to the top moves and makes noise.

The icing on the cake, though, was how he could _pull it off._ Although he was tall, he’s slim. He has a soft and smooth skin, and an elegant way of moving. It kind of hurts his pride. What’s left of it after agreeing to dance, anyway. Wearing the skirt the others are going to will strip every dignity he has left, so Ann (who picked out his clothes for him, as a member of Akira’s Wardrobe) and he reached a compromise to wear a skirt that shielded his intimacies.

“Your humor is not reciprocated,” Yusuke deadpans, and even with her best attempts, it was hard to calm Ann down. It almost looked like she was in pain and he’d have Takemi step in if she hadn’t replied back.

“I-I-I’m… I’M - BWAHAHAHA! S-S-SORRY, I JUST-” Ann stumbles through her phrase, and then lets out the last of her laughter die down. Yusuke, a little flushed, waits for her to return to her normal self. “I-I’m so sorry, you just- wow. You look… Great! In that clothing...! For a guy!” Her incredulity hasn’t faded either, it seems, and Yusuke huffs.

“I’m beginning to feel more reluctant about participating if the crowd is just going to laugh at me the way you did,” Yusuke answers, his shoulders slumping. Ann’s eyes widen, gesturing at him in a panicky fashion.

“N-No! Please, participate!” Ann pleads, peering at him with beseeching eyes. This causes him to mollify and sigh. “I just- you look wonderful! Really! I just half-expected it not to work that it literally blew my mind to pieces about how it just actually did.” She firmly grasps at his arm.

“It’s fine, Ann,” he says, trying to reassure her with a smile. “I just... “

Why he agreed to it in the first place should be added into the seven wonders of the world

_“Will you help with the dancing at the Grand Festival?” Akira asks him, leaning forward to survey the features of his court painter with mild interest. He does a double take as he steps back._

_“W-What? Me, your Highness?” Yusuke sputters, The temporary bodyguard at Akira’s side tries his best to stifle his snicker -- a futile attempt._

_Akira peers at him with such shining eyes that strikes chords in Yusuke. “Pleaaase? It’s just one day. The entire festival is riding on your shoulders.”_

_Yusuke doesn’t know why he doesn’t just order him to do it; knowing Akira, maybe he’s just being thoughtful in not wanting him to do anything he dislikes. That’s the king for him, and sometimes it makes him concerned. Nevertheless, he appreciates it in this case._

_Still, the pride of Yongen is now in his hands -- there wasn’t any other male or female willing to volunteer, so Yusuke is left to decide if the first day of the Grand Festival was going to be a Grand Disappointment._

_So he must accept -- that, and Akira’s “please” and eyes are enough persuasion for him._

Which is what Yusuke is regretting now. Well, at least he’ll be able to help Yongen. He might as well be a sheep used as sacrifice to some divine presence up above. Well, if he’s going to be, hopefully, it’d be for a _noble_ cause.

When presented to his friends, Ryuji turns into whole different shades of red. He only says, “n-nice outfit, dude…” which makes Yusuke want to disappear into a hole right then and there and face a miserable demise. If the world can swallow him up now, that would be a good alternative, too.

Not even that, Ann invited Haru over for a “little surprise,” and it wasn’t a “little,” no sir. It was a “big” surprise. That surprise is Yusuke. She’ll never let him live it down when she sees him in his attire.

“I don’t appreciate the public humiliation either, _Ann,_ ” Yusuke remarks with a glare sent her way. She shivers, and then laughs nervously.

“Well, the _whole_ kingdom is going to see you anyway, so what’s the point in hiding it?” she remarks like she’s a sweet, little girl accused of stealing a baby’s candy. She pats him and then squeezes his shoulder. “But really, Yusuke -- thank you for volunteering.”

Yusuke feels a little better with her consolation. “Thank you, Ann.”

Now that he’s tried on the outfit, he only has a week of lessons until the Grand Festival. Thinking about it, days have come and went, slow and fast at the same time. Each one is eventful, making it seem like time has gone at a sluggish pace, but it also felt like a whirlwind, too fast for anyone to comprehend clearly.

Coming with the Grand Festival is many things: his Grand Humiliation, the Velvet Test, the madness and crazed festivities, and Akira’s potential suitor. Yusuke doesn’t know if he can handle all that, but he’ll try his mighty best to withstand all of these new events hurling towards him 120 mph.

Fortunately for him, Haru was part of the dancers. She volunteered to help tutor Yusuke, much to his relief. At least he won’t have to spend that free time wandering around the halls, bored. Still, a week to practice is something that’ll test his abilities.

 

* * *

 

 

Yusuke isn’t fortunate. He isn’t. Not at all.

Yusuke expected her to be gentle and kind, letting him learn at his own pace and only gently nudging him in the right direction. Smooth sailing, he’d thought. That was how Haru always came off to him.

Was he oh, _so_ wrong.

“No, no, Yusuke, knees bent and legs right under your hip! I’ll have to _punish_ you if you make such a rookie mistake again. Restart!” She exclaims in such cheerfulness that the artist wants to break down and cry.

He doesn’t know if this is Haru’s true colors. He was about to learn her sadistic nature. The _pain_ from those ‘punishments’ of hers -- he would rather not rethink about it. Unbearable. Unspeakable. Three days in, he had painstakingly worked hard just that he doesn’t have to face Haru’s cheery wrath. The way she smiles with a weapon in hand is a memory that won’t fade away from Yusuke’s mind anytime soon.

Due to her ‘discipline’ (no one dared to call it abuse or harassment), he’s learning quickly, adding on to the fact he’s a fast learner by default. Top that with Yusuke’s natural elegance and Haru’s expertise, and you have perfection.

Yusuke questions how Haru picked up on learning how to dance like this, but she only smiles mysteriously. No doubt she was trying to tease him. She did hint that Akira knows the reason for that, and he resolved to speak to Akira about that sometime later.

Going back to reality, Haru demonstrates the dance for him again, her movement fluid and coveted as she moves smoother than… Smoother than… Smoother than cream cheese you put on your bagel.*

When Yusuke watches her dance, he only feels flustered. Oh _God,_ how does she bend and move so easily?! Her movements were as mesmerizing as the bakers topping their cakes with frosting. He can’t even imagine doing what she does. Was it even possible in one week? He doesn’t think so. He’s praying and clinging onto the fact that perhaps he’ll at least have the basics down until then.

As she finishes in one flamboyant pause, she grins towards Yusuke, unknown to him whether it was one of sadism or pure happiness or both. “Try that.”

Yusuke gulps, but he attempts to do as she’s told. She shouts at him at every mistake he does while he tries to replicate her moves, Yusuke wanting to scream if he works harder than he is doing right now. He doesn’t know what’s harder, doing the dance or pulling off seeming like a woman while he does it. When Haru does it, it looks so natural, but when it comes down to it, it wasn’t.

When she finally lets him off the hook, Ann and Ryuji kneel over his inanimate body, squatting down the entrance of the room, patting him on the back and conjuring up some fresh water for him to drink. It ‘magically’ disappears within seconds, much to his friends’ surprise, who only curve their mouths into a smile that doesn’t quite reach their eyes.

“Must be tough with all this pressure and work on you, huh?” Ann says, trying to reassure him a little more. It doesn’t help that he’s followed with physical exertion to physical torture that awaits him. Maybe having his teachings for dancing right after training isn’t the best idea in the world. At least, right after this, he gets to collapse inside Futaba’s quarters and sulk. Yusuke only nods, still a little dazed.

“Oh, uh, well… let’s fetch some good shit for you tonight, man?” Ryuji offers, bobbing his head as he takes a grip on his shoulder. Yusuke, unable to speak over his exhaustion, only mutters nonsense which can be taken as acceptance.

After dancing lessons, though, Haru usually comes around and apologizes to him, explaining that she only wants him to be in top shape when it comes, so he doesn’t humiliate others or the kingdom, but above all, himself. It makes Yusuke feel better when she apologizes, because she never means to be strict with him or lash out her… sadism. It makes his lessons more bearable knowing she has good intentions for him and the others.

 

Oh, right, Futaba also saw him in his outfit. Sometimes Yusuke wonders if he’s blessed to have his friends. And sometimes he does not.

Despite Futaba’s best efforts to regain Yusuke’s pride, he had virtually discarded it a long time ago when he tried it on.. He still wants to weep and break down, but he can’t. At least, not until after the performance.

Ann and Ryuji enjoy teasing Akira about it, though, because he’s eager to see Yusuke in his outfit -- so much so that it seems like he was going to die if he wouldn’t. He still hasn’t seen him yet, and the suspense is killing him. Even his vivid imaginations can’t outmatch reality. They tease him just enough that he wouldn’t die over it.

After Akira had learned about his behavior in his drunken stupor towards Yusuke earlier, he tried to make it up to him, but his court painter only shut him down and assured that it was all right. Since then, Akira continues to call on him for company, albeit not every five minutes and certainly not giving a heart attack each time he visits. There are times he attempts to take hold of him when someone walks in, but other than that, their interactions are friendly enough.

Yusuke, one day, also encountered Shinya and caught up with him a little bit more. For some reason, he’s changed since they’ve met; he’s still the same fanatic about Yongen, but he’s come around to appreciate Hanae, his hometown better. They do have the best seafood. He can’t explain what happened to him, but at least it’s for the better.

While hasn’t talked to Makoto in a long while, he finally gets to speak to her when her incoming paperwork slows down a little. While she puts on a tough front, Yusuke can see her stress. Subtle details like rubbing her head or occasional sniffles. With the Grand Festival, stress is inevitable. There isn’t anything he can do, so he only wishes her well.

Though, as the Grand Festival slowly arrives, Yusuke feels nothing but a bit of hesitance and apprehension. He’s frightened, but at the same time, he’s excited for what’s to come. He only hopes everything goes as intended. He trusts it will. He’s counting on it.

 

* * *

 

 

Right, back to Futaba.

“Hey hey, Yusuke, look what _I_ made!” Futaba exclaims, pointing to her machinery. Yusuke blinks, coming back into reality, and looking down into her hand. It’s a… flower. Made of metal, though. Mechanical. Funny, it resembles the blue delphinium Akira had given him a while back. It’s not so far back, but it does make him a little nostalgic. He sniffs. It’s petite in his hand, easily being able to fit into his pocket.

“... What’s this?” Yusuke asks, inspecting it in admiration. He did teach Futaba, but _wow,_ she improved immensely. Futaba only smiles, giggling a little.

“Just a show of my gratitude for teaching me how to…” she points at the flower, and Yusuke warms a little at the gesture. She gestures toward his pocket. “Will you please hold onto it wherever you go?”

Yusuke is only too happy to accept her offer. “That’s a… strange request. But if it satisfies you, I shall hold on to it.”

He didn’t notice Futaba snickering when he turns his back. Oh, he’ll love the surprise she’s given him when the time for the festival does come. The only issue he’ll have is if he’ll even use what she gave him. Well, no matter, there’s a possibility he will, and that’s what she’ll cling onto.

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Warning: Section deals with issues such as suicide and death.**

 

“Though, I must ask where you get all your materials from?” Yusuke asks, raising an eyebrow as he pockets the metallic blossom.

On cue, she stands up and walks over to a rack of materials -- inside are a plethora of components, materials, and parts which seem familiar to Yusuke now that he’s watching Futaba do her magic in front of him while he gives feedback to her. He picks them up and inspects them by squinting.

“Sojiro gave me a load of these when I asked for them -- he wants to keep me occupied,” she answers, grinning a little. “He didn’t go into hiding unprepared, see.”

Then again, Sojiro must’ve saved up quite a bit if he was a noble. He also doesn’t look rash to completely disappear from the royal scene without taking a fair amount of resources with him. At least he has some funds to support Futaba and him, despite his current employment.

“I’d usually keep quiet about this and say it’s classified information, but it’s not like I have anyone to tell it to,” she says with a sigh, returning to her regular position. Yusuke looks on and sighs, taking a seat next to her. Futaba looks at him, and then away.

“Well, why don’t you go outside?” He asks, and Futaba hesitates. She racks her brain for an excuse, but nothing comes up.

When he looks back asking this question, he doesn’t know whether he should rue or congratulate himself for it. It made him learn something about Futaba that he hasn’t known. Somewhere that hit too close to home. He knew he shouldn’t have pried in personal affairs, but, curiosity killed the cat.

“... Then, may I trust you to keep a secret?” she says, looking at Yusuke dead in the eyes. He looks back, and nods, albeit slowly. “I want you to say it.”

“Yes, Futaba, I will,” Yusuke replies nodding once more. She stands up, and taking out a key from herself, she approaches her work area and unlocks a cabinet, going on to open it. Futaba takes out a little piece of paper.

The pain on her face was apparent, as if just the mere thought or touching it might cause her to die. And in some ways, she wants to. For now, she takes a deep breath as she palms it within her hand. “... my mother’s ‘suicide note,’” she says after prolonged silence, making Yusuke’s breath hitch.

He has always known Futaba to be the shy sort who, luckily, warmed up to him quickly. He’s also known her to be a little childish, playful and bright. And mostly only that. Seeing her now, looking as if she wants to break down, is an unbearable sight for the painter.

“... I-I… I killed… I killed her,” she whispers, her eyes getting damp. Yusuke doesn’t have time to react to her words -- only to her state. With this, panic arises in Yusuke’s chest, and he frantically looks around to find a tissue or clothing of some sort. Not knowing how else to wipe her tears, he gives up and instead motions for her to come a little closer. Futaba hesitates visibly, even through the confusing mess of tears, but she does. She kneels, and he lets her lean on him and cry on his shoulder, wet from Futaba sobbing a little harder.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wish to, actually,” Yusuke tells her, trying to soothe her as much as possible by patting her back and affecting a more softer tone. Why did he have to ask that question. He feels Futaba shift a little, and he allows her a little bit more space.

“... I-I… I just-” she sniffles. “N-N-Need to… nngh.. Calm…”

Voices begin to resurface in her head again, amplifying her desire to want to erase herself from the world to end her guilt and repent for her mother who supposedly committed suicide because of _her._ It’s all _her_ fault. She doesn’t deserve to exist any longer. The ache in her head spikes. It’s painful. It hurts. Her head, and perhaps, her heart too. Maybe her entire being. This time, she isn’t as alone, though, because she’s leaning on someone’s shoulder and crying openly about it, _accepting_ it.

Yusuke has never comforted anyone who cried before. It’s new to him, and he doesn’t know what else to do but hear her out and give her a little bit of comfort. He doesn’t know how to soothe someone correctly, but he imagines this is something that he wants someone else to do for him if it ever happened. And so, this is what it turns out happening. He lets her cry some more time after that.

So this is what it feels to let somebody cry on your shoulder. Being able to support them when they need someone to do that for them, relying on you to help it _stop._ Yusuke feels a mix of emotions, of wanting to protect, a bit of selfish happiness he can be of use, and more sympathy and sadness he has felt throughout his whole time in Yongen. Even then, Yusuke doesn’t cry. He doesn’t think he has in a long time. He wants to, but he has mainly forgotten how to a long time ago.

After a few minutes of just Futaba’s crying, which gets a little fainter, she pulls away, sitting up and wiping her tears away herself. She’s calmer than before, albeit hot tears are still running down her cheeks. “I-I feel a bit better, but… nngh… my... head hurts…”

 

“Look who came back,” Takemi says towards Yusuke, examining an unconscious Futaba, with Sojiro in tow. His eyebrows are knit in worry, concerned about what had happened to her, and giving a Yusuke a look that screams demand for answers.

“Didn’t wish to see you again so early, but it’s a pleasure to be in your company once more,” Yusuke answers.

Futaba had become unconscious after sobbing a little until her eyes were sore, but because of her condition, she had to be taken out of her room and to Takemi’s for some examining. However, she’s not going to like the “waking up” part, which Yusuke and Sojiro will have to deal with later.

“Mm,” Takemi merely murmurs. She waves the two men away, who look at each other. They exit the room and stand next to the entrance. Yusuke has a lot of explaining to do with Sojiro, and he probably won’t be all that happy about it.

 

* * *

 

 

“Futaba really…?” Sojiro wonders with widened eyes. Yusuke nods slowly, and the guardian looks down in contemplation, frowning and seemingly having a headache. He shakes his head off, as if to shake off the thoughts sticking onto him, and speaks up. “Futaba usually doesn’t confide in me, or… anyone. I guess it’s time for you to know what happened to her.”

**\-- Most of Sojiro’s dialogue is from the actual game, just a bit modified and Yusuke speaks in the stead of others. You may skip this as you please!**

Yusuke nods for him to go on. “As you can see, Futaba doesn’t have a mother, and I adopted her. Well, Futaba’s mother and I knew each other long before Futaba was born. Her mother was a bit of a weird one, but we got along well for some reason…” he explains, and Yusuke leans in, hanging on to each detail. “She was sharp-witted, somewhat stern, a little socially inept, and always carefree...she truly was a great woman.” Sojiro finally cracks a smirk, and the artist tries his best not to smile back.

“When something piqued her interest, that’d be all she focused on. She always worked deep into the night, and I thought that’d change after her kid was born, but having Futaba didn’t do much,” Sojiro continues, and Yusuke tilts his head at that. “Even with that, she always took good care of her.”

Yusuke finally speaks up. “It’s difficult to balance your work and to take care of someone else.” Not like he’d know. Or maybe he would. It’s already difficult caring for himself. He’s certainly not ready to take care of someone else.

“I guess raising Futaba alone turned out to be tough on her in more ways than one…” he answers.

Something bugged Yusuke -- that was the absence of a person. “... Did she have a father?”

Sojiro looks up from the floor toward Yusuke. “There wasn’t a father.” Yusuke hesitates, but seeing this he quickly says, “Well, there probably was one. I didn’t know him though. She never said a word about him, either -- she was single when she gave birth to Futaba, and single when she raised her.”

That must’ve been tough, doing all that and raising someone on your own. Yusuke doesn’t know if _he_ had the strength to do that, so it’s admirable for Futaba’s mother to take good care of her daughter all alone.

“They were an ordinary, loving family. You could really tell how much she cared for Futaba.” Sojiro then groans, closing his eyes and crossing his arms. “But one day, she left… leaving Futaba behind.”

Yusuke blinks. “She…”

Sojiro glances at him, and then closes his eyes again. “Yes. She committed suicide.”

Yusuke covers up his mouth, and unapologetically, Sojiro doesn’t stop. “Threw herself in front of stampeding cavalry, right in front of Futaba’s eyes.”

Yusuke felt as if he’s rooted into the ground now, not knowing how to respond and what might come off as insensitive or not. “That… must’ve been terrible for Futaba.”

Sojiro nods his head and sighs. “So...” he shifts his weight. “Well, a lot happened after that, but I ended up taking custody of Futaba… First, she was so depressed she… didn’t even talk to me. I kept talking to her though, and she started opening up to me little by little.”

His expression turns even more grim, just when Yusuke thought it couldn’t get any worse. “That’s when I found out…” Sojiro takes a deep breath. “Futaba blames herself for her mother’s death.”

Yusuke’s taken aback. “Why would she come to believe such a thing?”

Sojiro merely shakes his head. “That part she’s never told me,” he replies. “I wanted to know what led her to believing that, but I decided not to rub salt in the wound.” He stands upright once more, holding his chin with a contemplative look in his eyes.

“Then, a few months ago…” he continues, “she started getting real scared, even when nothing was happening. She’d say things like, ‘I hear voices…’ and, ‘Mom is looking at me…’”

“Visual and auditory hallucinations…” Yusuke ponders. It must’ve really taken a psychological toll on her, to have those symptoms. Of course, she was only a child, carrying such a burden at a young age. Not only that, she blames herself for it... How could it _not_ affect someone? Somehow within Yusuke, he begins to appreciate Futaba a little better. “Have you taken Futaba to a doctor?”

Sojiro sighs. “I wanted to, but she refused. Even when I had the doctor come, she locked herself away in her room,” he responds, closing his eyes. “Since then, she’s become what you’d call a shut-in. She won’t take a single step outside of her room, or even try to see other people… well, until now.”

Yusuke stands a little straighter. “What about you?”

“She doesn’t even trust me to come into her room without her permission.” He rolls his neck once again, and Yusuke hears a slight crack. “Futaba is, well, a unique girl.  She’s so quick-minded that conversations with her tend to jump from one topic to the next… It seems like she’s always coming to conclusions in her head. There’s a lot I don’t get about her…”

He looks at Yusuke again. “So yeah… that’s about it,” Sojiro says. “What Futaba needs is a safe place where nobody will threaten her. Somewhere she can be at ease -- that’s why I won’t do anything she doesn’t want. I don’t make her do anything she’s unwilling to either.”

He gets up from the wall, standing in front of the painter with a resigned, weary look. “Then again, I know that’s no way for her to live,” he murmurs, rubbing his temples. “That’s all I _can_ do, though.”

Yusuke studies his tired face, considering it. “What does Futaba want?”

Sojiro shakes his head. “I don’t know. She just asks me for things that she wants, like food or -- these complicated books…” he shrugs. “Well, that’s that. So can you just… leave her be?”

Yusuke casts his eyes down. What he really means is that he shouldn’t pry into their personal affairs. It’s true, but all he can do is just nod. Sojiro nods in return. “I’m gonna head back to the kitchen then,” he says. “Futaba needs the rest for now.”

Yusuke watches the noble-turned-chef disappear into the distance. As much as he’d like to check up on Futaba, he’ll just leave that for now. Still, learning about all of this makes Yusuke feel a little dazed.

_So she’d like to discard her feelings of pain, but she can’t do anything about herself,_ Yusuke thinks. He has an urge to help her somehow. But he doesn’t know how. It was an odd, and sort of sad feeling to know he’ll be helpless about her situation.

If only there was _something_ he could do for her.

* * *

 

* * *

 

The last remaining days passed by smoother than that day. Sure, there was still the personal torture and hell brought upon by Haru, accompanied by Iwai’s strict teachings, but each one was not adding as much heat on Yusuke as they would have on others, so he’s thankful for that.

And, as promised, Yusuke did try out new flavors catered by Sojiro himself as compromise for his barbarous training. Each one, to the painter’s delight, was an eye candy. Nothing literal, but one did almost come close.

Futaba went on as if everything was normal, and Yusuke began to think if it was merely a facade or not. He didn’t want to question it, as per Sojiro’s request, but he really believes he should do something -- it’s especially dangerous to leave her with thoughts like these. What if…

“Yusuke, _WAKE UP!”_

He falls from his bed, meeting the unforgiving cold, hard floor. He groans, mixed with annoyance and pain, but consumed with lethargy, he doesn’t want to get up. Delicate hands prop him up and shook him.

“Yusuke, you need to wake up!”

Yusuke finally forces his eyes to open up: when he sees the horizon outside his window was still a little dark, he had wanted, with every inch of his will, to go back to sleep. The female wasn’t going to give up, however. He looks up to see the frantic expression of Ann, jolting him out slightly from his sleepy state.

“We need to prepare you into your clothes. Haru delivered me a message that you’ll be rehearsing your dance with the others, so get into top shape and don’t let them keep waiting, all right?”

Yusuke can only manage a nod, and Ann almost literally drags Yusuke away.

When he regained full consciousness, he’s already in his dancing outfit, and he reddens once again. It’s really happening. Today is the first day of the Grand Festival. It’s really, _really_ happening.

Haru approaches him. “Oh, Yusuke! You seem a little more awake now,” she says, cheery. Her cheeks are flushed too, which Yusuke can only assume mean she’s excited for what’s going to come. Her eyes widen a little and she starts looking for something. “And… oh!” She takes out the metallic flower Futaba had given to him. “I saw this and um… I apologize, but I fiddled with it a little.”

“No worries,” Yusuke answers.

“But um, you’re aware that something is inside, right?” she whispers, and Yusuke’s eyes get a little bigger.

“T-There is?”

Haru shows him, and it opens up to some things: a tiny container of something he can’t describe. It smells like wine. There’s also some brazilwood and _another_ container with fluid that smelled rosy.

Haru peers from behind and a smile breaks out. “Ah, I think that’s… _cosmetics,_ Yusuke,” she says, and Yusuke almost drops the metal flower in shock. “I didn’t know you would wear those things. Although you might want to watch out for the religious.”

“I-- I didn’t even know-”

 

In the end, Haru made him wear it (“it’ll go to waste! Plus, we need you to look more like a girl!”). This was all plotted by that mischievous little devil, wasn’t it? Damn it, Futaba. Next time, he’ll learn not to accept gifts given to him _too_ kindly.

When practice came, the others were a little surprised, but mildly amused about how Yusuke can catch up -- although, catch up in the bare minimum -- to them in a matter of a few days. Maybe it’s thanks to Haru or some other miracle, but at least his inexperience won’t be seeping through his performance. Probably.

Some of his friends guaranteed Akira will be looking at him, staring him down to death, but he doesn’t think dancing in front of the person representing the domain is so different from dancing in front of the kingdom itself.

Nevertheless, he’ll be doing both.

When Yusuke has been polished to minimal mistakes, which are not even noticeable in the first place, the performers finally sit down, gathering their breaths and reassuring each other.

“So.” Haru begins, looking at everyone with feverish eyes. “It’s finally happening.”

Yusuke registers it. _It’s happening._

He hasn’t even taken a look at what the scenery outside is like: how lively it was, how many banners and lanterns are hung up since he saw outside the castle. He was personally escorted, as with the others, towards the town center using a clandestine path, where there is a stage where it all takes place. They’re staying in a different building, waiting until it’s the right time to make their grand appearance. Although that was true, at least he can hear the excited chattering outside and the kids laughing. How festive that would be. Yusuke isn’t one for big crowds, and he hasn’t been in one for a while, let alone stood in front of one to put on a show for them. He expected to have more of a stage fright, but he somehow feels a little… bold. Well, there’s a first time for everything. His first time dancing and putting on a show, attending a festival, actually doing anything outdoorsy. It’s… fulfilling. Knowing that there are others with him doing it only makes the feeling more addicting.

Anxiety still lurked in the bottom of his stomach. Thrill, mixed in with anticipation and a little bit of fear. The women around him are curvaceous, experienced in what they do -- this is what they do best, and confident. The biggest difference between Yusuke and all of them, though, is being a girl. He doesn’t know if he acts feminine or whatnot, but either way, Yusuke will have to put on an act that he is. Ann couldn’t help herself with stuffing Yusuke in more ‘cleavage’ (much to his protest) though, so maybe that’d make things more convincing.

He’s also flustered at the mere fact Akira’s going to get an eyeful of him today. Yusuke’s always worn clothes that covered most of his skin, so Yusuke would probably look drastically different in his king’s eyes.

He tries to compose himself while the other ladies talk among themselves, but that was interrupted when Haru comes by to him.

“Hey, Yusuke, holding up fine here?” Haru asks with a soft smile. The return of the cinnamon roll Haru, and not the sadistic, sinnamon roll Okumura he had witnessed during his dance lessons. Yusuke nods to her, feeling mixed emotions about the whole situation.

“There’s no going back now,” he replies, and Haru chuckles.

“Hopefully you won’t.” Haru’s smile now molds into a cheeky grin. She looks at him up and down. “You look pretty good. Is that makeup?”

“P-Please refrain from referring to my appearance, Haru, it’ll be better for my heart.”

 

“Welcome, ladies and gents, to the first day of the Grand Festival!” the announcer… announces with a big grin on his face. The crowd cheers, holding up a mask up. The symbol of Yongen. Some of them hold up their own kingdoms’ if they come from a different one. “It’s such a lovely day -- fit for the occasion such as this! For the most sultry dance by the most experienced of female dancers all over!” The man motions towards the veiled women who filed in one line, each climbing up the stage with painstaking perfection.

Akira, on his royal chair being carried by hefty servants, squints to see which one is Yusuke. He can’t tell though. They’re a bundle of colors, but a couple of them are wearing the same color of Yusuke’s outfit, so it’s hard to differentiate between any of them. Ryuji, from down below, also struggles to see if he can pick the odd one out.

Maybe Yusuke really does pull off his act _too_ well.

“These wonderful ladies have come here to offer us a most impressive performance, no? An excellent way to start off the Grand Festival!”

From under the covers of his veil, Yusuke lifts his head.

It was a beautiful day, indeed. The kingdom is decked, head to toe, in gold and red ribbons and decorations with oriental lanterns. The crowd is also adorning their kingdom colors, most of it red and gold and sometimes, white. There’s a sea of blue and green, but also a crowd of orange.

The stage is all theirs’.

“May we welcome them as ours.”

The announcer walks off stage and all eyes are on the dancers getting into position. A hush falls to the crowd as they look on with anticipation.

_It’s happening,_ he thought to himself for the millionth time today. It’s happening -- and so what? What he’s going to do, I’ll tell you, is _dance._ He’s not going to run away, not now when he had finally tasted the feeling of not being alone. Of being wanted, of having someone to rely on. If he didn’t have his friends, he’d very well run out and off the stage. When the kingdom is counting on you, and your friends expect a lot of you, you simply just don’t back away.

He catches a glimpse of Akira on his high and mighty chair, who’s searching for _him_. That grants Yusuke a bit more confidence.

He takes a deep breath as the instruments begin to play in front of the stage, the band of musicians giving an easy enough rhythm for the dancers to settle in. It’s cheerful and festive, just like the Grand Festival. The dancers unveil themselves and toss the veil aside, Yusuke joining in.

Yusuke begins to move, counting his steps. _One, two…_ he moves his arms around, letting it highlight each curve of his figure and how _malleable_ he looks. He becomes less aware of how embarrassing his clothing is, lifting it and helping it spin around at the appropriate moments. Miraculously, he hasn’t lost his footing, and it must be due to Haru.

While he dances, he thinks: _what are the others thinking when they see me? Are they captivated, or are they disgusted? Will the King like it? Will he hate it?_ He lets this uncertainty fuel his dancing, ensuring he stays at his top shape.

As much as he’d love to control his breathing, it comes out short and ragged, trying to keep up to the rhythm of the music playing. He tries his best not to look at the other dancers as he wraps his arms around himself. He thought back to how exhaustive his trainings and lessons were then, but at least those are paying off today.

The music slows down into something more harder to recognize the rhythm to, and his earlier energy begins to settle, too. He moves a little slower, focused on his movements. Put his foot over here, drag his hands across his chest, bring it up to his hair. All slow and tactile, but innocent-looking to kids. Perfect.

At one point, he locks eyes with Akira, and he could’ve sworn he saw his king stare so deeply and intently at him. This almost made the painter -- no, _dancer_ \-- mess up, but he kept to the rhythm. Knowing he’s there does give him a slight boost. He tries not to be overly obvious about his methods of capturing the audience, _subtle_ \-- not showing his intimate features, but instead, close to it, and focusing a little bit more on his face. He’s chaste, and he’s going to stay that way. The music is loud, and tailors to each dancers’ preferences.

Even through the cold weather, slick sweat traveled down his skin as he moved. As the dancers finish up their individual dances, they slowly spin towards the center, forming a circle. Now, they’re all moving the same, harmonious and cheerful. They move around the circle as one, but each doing their own thing. They’re all one, but they’re all different at the same time. It’s like his friends: one, but many. Together, but separate. United, yet different all the same.  

Yusuke pleads the gods above that it’ll stay that way.

_“Remember,” Haru tells Yusuke as he drops to his knees after the training. “We all work in harmony, but we don’t always do the same thing. Dance in a way that expresses_ you. _I said you should replicate my dancing, but the truth is, Yusuke, all you have to do is cooperate but be yourself. No copying anyone, or cookie-cutter dancing. Just all you.”_

Just all him.

His earlier thoughts then give him new adrenaline and power to him. So when the group spreads out once more, his movements are energetic, but not at all unpolished or choppy; it has a certain elegance and grace to it. The whole crowd is still silent, trying to put all of their senses into the dancing. To do this, he attempts to channel all his intense thoughts and desires -- the way he felt about his companions is strong, but he’ll convey it in _his_ way.

They still have the crowd. Can they keep their gaze until the end?

Yusuke is nearly out of breath, but he won’t stop -- he _can’t_ stop. Not when you’ve inhaled the true meaning of _exhilaration_ . Once you feel it, there’s mainly no going back. There’s no way he’ll abandon the friends once they’ve introduced such a feeling to him, no way he’ll stop feeling and _wanting_ Akira -- there’s just _no way._

Everyone is there with him. Haru is out there dancing with him, Ann is cheering for him, and Ryuji and Akira gape and clap all the way through. Perhaps Futaba even joined in and took a peek outside just to watch him. Maybe everyone else is there, supporting Yusuke.

He hears the music get fainter, cueing him to twirl back into the circle. At this point, the floor seemed to spin for him even though he had stopped himself. He spins, his arm reaching out for the dear heavens above while shrinking down to the floor, and so did everyone else. They still had their arms raised, as if trying to reach for something as the performers pant and huff and sit on the ground.

He looks up, and eyes Akira. He looks a bit out of breath, too.

 

* * *

 

“You. Were. Incredible!” Ann gushes, shaking Yusuke so much that he feels like he’s going to lose his nonexistent lunch. Ryuji pulls his friend away, and grins at him.

“Yeah man, you were great! If Akira was standing up, he’d be on his knees I’m sure,” he tells him, making Yusuke a little red in the face. He blames it on makeup.

Despite Ann’s best efforts to convince him into taking the dress for himself, he refused graciously. It was too expensive for him to own, so he’d probably worship it and have the desire to clean it every few minutes. He changed back into his regular clothes, taking a sigh of relief as he feels some of his dignity return to him. Finally, a male again.

He hasn’t seen Akira around, so he tries not to overthink it. Instead, he gathers a few of his friends. He gets Haru to meet Ryuji and Ann, who hit it off. Soon, they were eating like old pals and friends.

Right, there was food stalls all around, and most of them was freely supplied to Yusuke -- you know, privilege as the ‘dancer who participated in the Grand Festival’. Seats were set up after the performance, and the workers cleaned it up pretty quickly, making the center turn into one big food court instead. Since taverns weren’t open in broad daylight, adults settled with the family-friendly center. Looks like some of them are going to drink heavily tonight.

“Just wait ‘till tomorrow comes,” Ryuji says through a mouthful. Ann gives him a look for that, and Haru merely giggles. “It’s going to be. Utter. Chaos.”

“Chaos?” Yusuke repeats, a little uncertain.

Haru smiles, trying to reassure him by stroking his arm. “Well -- yes, and no. During the second day of the festival, commoners and nobles all play together in a series of tournaments and/or just some friendly games. It’s fun, really. It does get hectic sometimes, though.”

“Sometimes?” Ann says, laughing. She begins to tear into her sugary victim out of her many other sweet delectables who stare back in horror. “No, _all the time._ But of course, there’s still a limit to everything. We just can’t help ourselves with betting, though!”

Ah, how lovely that sounds. It’d be interesting to see, though; people of different social classes facing off in the same games. Yusuke is pretty sure that each of them  have their own strengths and weaknesses at certain activities, so he won’t be surprised, if two of the opposing classes face off each other, ended in a stalemate. Though it seems like commoners vs. nobles isn’t the main focus of it. You’ll still be playing against your own people, just this time, with people of more drastic backgrounds.

It’s brilliant on Yongen’s part, to unite the upper class with the middle and lower class in a fair and square competition where it didn’t matter who you are and where you came from. Just your mere skills and nothing more.

Some other kingdoms might not be so lucky.

_“Wealth is everything in Sjibu-Yan,” Iwai tells him, discarding his sword and then sitting down on hay, fanning himself to keep the heat away. He looks at Yusuke. “If you don’t have any, you’ll either starve, or get killed on the streets. There’s no mercy in that place. Nothin’. If you grow up in a place like that, you have no choice but to… reform. You’ll have to learn how to stay strong, to work yourself so hard just so you can live another day. You have to do the very thing someone else did to you to make you miserable, so maybe you have a tiny chance of escaping that godforsaken place. You grow tough as nails and you forget how to cry. You forget anyone but yourself. Anything but money. If you have money, that’s everything. Makes the world go around, at least over there. As long as you have money in Sjibu-Yan… you’re alive.”_

He shivers at his instructor’s words.

It did remind him of Ichiryusai, except more artistic and less direct. You don’t get mugged on the streets, but that’s better than being ignored. At least then, someone knows of your existence. In Ichiryusai, if you’re dirt poor and out on the streets, they won’t even acknowledge your presence. They won’t bat an eye, won’t give you a glance, won’t spare you change. Won’t look you in the eye, won’t help you, won’t do you _anything._ You’re simply treated like air. Treated like _nothing._

This isn’t the time for dwelling on such dark thoughts. He immediately downs his meal and joins in on the next topic his friends are talking about.

Friends…

That’s a pretty nice word.

 

* * *

 

 

As Yusuke returns to the castle, he briefly makes it to Futaba’s room, helping her go to sleep, before resigning back to his own room. Just as he’s about to pull the handle to his, though, a mechanical bird flies to his side with a letter in beak.

There’s only one person who could’ve done this.

He rushes to the garden, where he sees the shadowy figure of his king. He’s gazing at the stars, as they had done once under the same roof. He smiles as he approaches him, sliding at the spot next to him.

“Yusuke,” Akira utters, smiling back at him. Hearing him call his name makes his heart thump a little louder. “I’m sorry I couldn’t congratulate you right after your performance -- you were...  amazing out there.”

Yusuke doesn’t turn down his compliment, only hums a little happily. “Nothing that concerns me,” he answers. He turns to Akira. “I admit, I was scared, but I was more thrilled than anything. That was… one of the best moments I’ve had in my life. It was… unusual, to say the least, because I had some kind of self-revelation at one point. All things aside, I wish I had seen the others dance. I’m sure they were beautiful -- the way they dance to the rhythm, the curv-”

Akira leans on him once again, closing his eyes and catching Yusuke off-guard. “Nah. I think I like you the most out of all of them.”

Yusuke tries to stop the embarrassment from reaching his cheeks. “You’re being biased, Kurusu-sama.”

Akira looks up from his position. “Maybe. Maybe not.” Yusuke only chuckles at that.

Yusuke wonders what else he should say to him. “Why did you invite me up here?”

He feels him shrug a little. “I guess… I just need company.”

Comfortable silence kicks in between the two. Not awkward, but something reassuring and calm. Something that tells both parties that merely indulging in their company is more than enough for each of them.

“Yusuke?” Akira asks, shaking him a little in case he’s asleep. Yusuke makes a soft noise. “... Why does everything have to be difficult?”

Yusuke’s shoulders shot up in vigilance. Why is Akira bringing this up? Right now? Right after the first day of the Grand Festival? Akira stays silent for a moment before he continues. “Why did _my_ parents die? What did they do to deserve it? What did _I_ do to deserve it? What did I do to deserve being forced to grow up too quickly, and face this _burden_?”

Yusuke doesn’t open his mouth before Akira begins to speak again. “I hadn’t thought about this since years past. I began to ponder on that sole question because,” he groans, “I saw just how many people were looking at you, _staring_ at you. How many people _desired_ you. You’re right, I _was_ biased for you. After your performance, I went out to recompose myself. For the first time in years, I felt uneasy and unconfident.”

Yusuke’s mind blanks out. He can’t find the right words to say, and he’s tempted to hear all the way through Akira’s story. That’s what he decides to do, since it doesn’t seem like he was going to stop. His king is looking at him, and he tries not to let his willpower crumble as he stares back.

“I promised myself, and I promised… one boy at the gardens… that I would discard all such feelings of fear when I took up my position. But that’s what I felt during that time. I felt _fear._ You can take your pick out of all those who wanted you and _god dammit,_ your life and mine would be _so_ much better.”

Yusuke admits he’s never seen Akira in such distress; he’s never shown any signs of weakness. Even when he pushed him away, Akira didn’t seem at all stressed. He’s confident, but a just ruler, and he’s always sure he’s ten step ahead of his opponents. Seeing him in such a confused, pained state hit it home.

“But I didn’t want you to. And the possibility is well and alive. I thought, ‘is this what it means to be the king?’, and it messes me up. I can’t take a break, can’t be vulnerable for even a moment, can’t risk the lives that is depending on my leadership, and hell, I can’t even be truly happy!” The king exclaims. Something starts welling up in his eyes, and he wipes them away quickly. “I don’t know what to _do,_ and all I can ever do is sit on a damn throne and _suck it up!_ As much as I want to, I can’t be dedicated to the kingdom and my kingdom only forever… But if I can only have one thing, one thing to make me happy, I wish I had you.”

Yusuke’s head snaps to Akira’s direction. “Aki…”

Before he realizes it, Akira had took off one of his gloves, lifting Yusuke’s chin up and thumbing at it. Before Yusuke can process what’s happening, Akira leans in and lets their lips meet.

It was soft, and chaste. Uncertain, but eager. Nothing passionate or deep, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t conveying _longing._ That longing was very apparent in the contact. Pining. And desire. But it was reassuring, assuring him to move at his own pace and promising that he wouldn’t do anything that Yusuke didn’t want to. He knows all of this through one kiss because -- it’s Akira.

Yusuke is still frozen as Akira pulls away, smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes. The artist blinks once. And then twice. And then he feels guilt and then happiness. Is this what they call guilty pleasure? Maybe? Perhaps?

“I apologize if I did that against your will,” Akira says, looking away. “Couldn't resist something that looks delicious. Just that… I think I can keep going even if it was just once, and just that.”

Yusuke doesn’t know how to respond, how to _feel,_ what to _think._ Sympathy, happiness, and sorrow, perhaps. When the artist opens his mouth, Akira just shakes his head and nods. “You don’t have to say anything,” he says. “Good night, Yusuke.”

_But I want to,_ Yusuke thinks as he begins walking away. _I just don’t know what._ When he finally composed himself, it was too late.

 

* * *

 

I must say, that show truly is fantastic. However, we had more things to do than just sit back and enjoy some seductive show. Finally, we’re able to deploy all our spies into Yongen. We’ve encountered some difficulties with getting through the guards, but some have slipped through the cracks. They’ll be posing as servants. Luckily, Shujin’s supporting us by sending some of their own men to spy on them. Under the table alliance. A partnership. To take down this kingdom.

They’ll be on the lookout for any signs of weaknesses of its king. They’ll find it, and they’ll report to us, where we’ll exploit it. No heir means utter chaos. It means we’ll be able to take control of Yongen then, and even if we won’t be able to, at least a threat has been eliminated.

What could his weakness be?

 

### Notes:

From this point on is the extra I wrote for Ryuji's story. Would be interesting to learn more about our dear vulgar boy! actual author's notes LOL. Just scroll a little until you find something like this again.

 

 

 

_Freedom._

That’s the one word Ryuji strives for his whole life.

Ryuji usually doesn’t want to talk about his leg injury, and he won’t mention it unless he absolutely has to or if someone asks. Unfortunately, people _do_ ask. He’d only respond that someone did it to him, but it was a thing of the past. That’s all what people needed to know about it.

Yet, as the millionth person asked him about it, he laid down on his bed made of hay, thinking back to it.

It all began just five years ago. Five years ago, when he was back with his mother. The mother he had wished to break out. But she’ll have to wait. Just a little longer, now. He’ll be reunited with her.

Ryuji once lived in Shujin -- yes, that Shujin. The place where commoners starved and the rich bathed in strawberries and drank away the night, blissfully unaware of the state of their kingdom. He was a commoner, so he knew. He knew the horrors of living in such a place.

His father was an advocate for Shujin; he had the same violent tendencies as they did, the cruelty. He beat him and his mother, and to escape such a lifestyle, they moved into the castle of Shujin and worked there as servants.

Ryuji became pretty well known around the castle, even taking the notice of the princess in there. At a very early age, he’s shown signs of promise. A few reputable persons sought for him and were interested in these certain promises of his. His mother and he thought they’d have a peaceful life after that. That’s what they had hoped.

They were dead wrong.

Success always comes with envy; that envy came from Kamoshida in particular. As a duke with connections as far as Shujin’s queen and king, he could pretty much manipulate the royal court as he pleased. He demanded that Ryuji worked under him, and that’s what had happened.

It was deja vu; Kamoshida constantly abused him and the rest of his servants. He had particularly disdained Ryuji, because he showed promise. What’s more, Kamoshida started spreading rumors about him, tarnishing his reputation and closing, once again, all opportunities for him and his mother.

So, what did 11-year old Ryuji do? He had to rebel, of course. And he tried. And he failed.

Who would believe a premature servant next to an adult duke? He broke his leg when he tried to stand up against Kamoshida, however, they had believed his story of “youths being violent” and claimed it as ‘self-defense.’

He could remember his mother apologizing to him, scrunched down on the floor weeping. _“I’m sorry,”_ and she repeated those words too many for Ryuji to remember. He didn’t want to see her in such distress. All he wanted was let his mother take it easy, especially through all the hardships they had to endure.

Persevering, he continued to devise a plan to escape Shujin. He asked around some servants, but due to their growing hatred of him (caused by Kamoshida’s increase of violence because of Ryuji’s rebellion), most of them turned him down.

One of them had told him that he’d only get executed if he were found out. Ryuji took those words as a challenge -- he couldn’t give up without trying again. He’s not as afraid of death, because he rather die than stay in that hellhole forever.

He finally managed to find a travelling merchant sympathetic to his cause and agreed to help him and his mother get on the boat and sneak into Yongen. They would meet at a certain place at night, and he’d bring his mother with him.

When night came, he told his mother his plan and wished to leave with her. However, she refused, saying she’d only bother him. Ryuji asked why she thought that way, and his mother only replied that he’d have to take care of her. She reassured him, saying she had a home here and a job to work for, that she could take care of herself.

Ryuji was at a crossroad; would he stay behind, or would he leave on his own? You probably already knew the answer. He trusted his mother will fare better, there, especially because she didn’t have to work under someone abusive. She had a stable job and a home. Staying at Shujin would be too dangerous for him.

He vowed to come back for her, however, and let her live more comfortably if he succeeded in Yongen. He’ll bust out his mother and give her whatever she wanted.

He swore on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I'm publicly showing a confession scene I wrote. It's probably really bad, but I hope it sways emotions or shows a little bit more of Akira's troubles. I think we don't know much about him, so this is one way to reveal a little bit more information of our good ol' P5 protagonist. ~~BTW Akira's pretty hot. >//< ~~
> 
> Shi, I forgot what I wanted to say... I was mostly only researching about dance and confession scenes, however, I probably did research a few other things... gimme a sec to think things through...
> 
> OHOHOH right, cosmetics in the Medieval Ages. Uhh, let's see. Brazilwood soaked in rose water can be like rouge if you rub your cheek with it. There's a complicated process for making lip balm, but that's what the container with the fluid has. Yusuke will have to apply it. How'd she get it, you ask? "Private."
> 
> Yes, Ryuji was a refugee from Shujin. How he got to his position will hopefully be explained maybe sooner or later. Iwai explained Yongen was a popular choice for those who want to escape their kingdom from... the previous chapter, I believe? Especially for Shujin. 
> 
> I probably forgot more but -finger guns-.

**Author's Note:**

> why is Akira so hot -sniffs-


End file.
